Eternal Undeath
by NightIncarnate
Summary: Dropped into Middle Earth, Death Knight Zamira Snowfang has a nasty problem on her hands. Rated M for gore, violence and possible sexual situations. LegolasxOFC  Indefinite Hiatus
1. Chapter 1

**I have just now realized that authors on every fanfiction site I've ever visited seem to just never combine the best books and the best MMORPG ever! So I set out to amend that problem! Combining World of Warcraft and Lord of the Rings is my latest project and I shall see it through to the end…hopefully. So all you LOTR and WoW lovers gather round and listen to my tale.**

**Disclaimer: Obviously I am neither J.R.R. Tolkien (since he's dead and I'm pretty sure I'm alive) and neither am I Blizzard Entertainment. **

'How long must I wait for that brainless ghoul to return.' A medium sized shadowy figure thought. Lifting her head into the wintry sunlight she looked with glowing blue eyes over the tundra of Northrend. Her grayish-purple cloak's hood flew off her head exposing her long silky ink black hair to the vicious wind. Becoming fed up with her minion's slowness she raised a pale hand into the open and called her undead steed, Oblivion, from the Shadow Realm. Neighing into existence the faithful Archerus Deathcharger looked down upon his master with his icy blue glowing eyes. Mounting the undead stallion she sat into the blackened saddle and made sure all her armor was set and her monstrous two-handed Runeblade was secure in its baldric across her back. She then kicked her steed into a speedy gallop and they both set off.

Riding for nearly three hours nonstop had not fazed the female Death Knight for she knew that her quest was an important one. She had sent her minion ghoul to scout the territory ahead for any enemies. Obviously there were some since the creature had not returned. Looking carefully around she slowed Oblivion to a walk and glanced warily around as they entered a dim pine forest. Dismounting she sent the beast back to the Shadow Realm and drew her Runeblade. Taking quiet careful steps she watched and listened to the creaking of the wind in the tree tops. A twig snapped from behind her and she spun around slashing her Runeblade down.

Blocking her sword with his own a tall, muscular Night Elf warrior stood watching her with his silvery blue eyes. Dark purple skin with lots of facial hair of an odd aquamarine color matching his hair. His armor was of good quality but his eyes spoke of terror.

"Death Knight, you best summon your mount and be gone from this place. A great legion of the Scourge is on its way through this very forest right now." He said quickly with his mysterious accent lacing his Common. Raising his own hand he summoned a blue and white armored Swift Stormsaber and sped off through the snow and trees. Holding her breath she listened and sure enough she heard the faint groans and moans of an oncoming group of the Scourge. Grinning sadistically she readied her in Runeblade one hand and with her other she swept over the snow laden ground and clouds of smoke and undead energy billowed around and five ghouls rose from the ground and stood at the ready their jaws salivating and their decaying bodies hunched over.

Out of the trees brainless liches poured forth groaning and hungry for flesh. Letting out a banshee-like shriek the Death Knight sprung forward leading her ghouls into battle. Swinging left and right she cut down any lich in her way. Using her spells and buffs she powered herself with massive amount of runic power and unleashed waves of destruction upon the Scourge. Her Runeblade sliced through the rotted flesh like butter, splattering brownish blood over the pristine white snow. Spinning around she decapitated one lich and in return she felt a spear pierce through her left arm. Cackling madly she snapped the spear tip off and wrenched it from her arm. Turning she set her cold blue eyes on the lich who had wielded the spear. Lunging with a yell the undead woman stabbed the spear head through the lich's neck and watched as the brownish blood gushed over her hand. Laughing she spun around to find herself surrounded and she narrowed her eyes and growled out like a savage animal.

Out of nowhere a bolt of demonic energy surged through the crowd and struck her in the chestplate, but instead of dissipating as it made contact with the metal it sunk through it. Writhing in pain the female Death Knight dropped to the snow, her body twitching with muscle spasms as red blood poured from her mouth and ears. Gurgling through the blood the Death Knight laughed at her fate, so her soul was to go to Arthas after all. Clutching her Runeblade to her body she hugged it as a mother would hold her own infant child. Darkness swam into her vision and she welcomed it with open arms. Then in a flash of colored light the darkness vanished and the Death Knight was surrounded by bluish-purple swirling light.

With a crash of metal the woman landed hard on the ground which instead of biting into her bare patches of skin with cold seemed to ripple and warm her. Lifting her bloodied head wearily she saw green trees and lush greenery that reminded her of spring in the Eastern Kingdoms. The wind was soft and warm compared to the bitter biting gusts of Northrend. Flexing the Death Knight reached around with her right arm and found her small pack off to the side. Flipping the lid open she pulled out a major healing potion and carefully brought it to her bloodstained lips though they were a normally pale gray color. Chugging the cinnamon tasting liquid the undead woman cringed slightly as she felt rushing hotness surge throughout her body mending her physical injuries.

Feeling better she reached for some food and drink. She pulled out some of her scant Northrend rations which was a single slice of jerky and a canteen of simple water. Eating and drinking she felt her energy come back slowly but surely. Next she reached around and unbuckled her armor piece by piece. Now she was sitting in the grass only clad in a soft dark blue silk tunic, black leggings and having her ink black hair tied up in a bun atop her head. Reaching into her small bag once again she found and brought out a single Frostweave bandage. She began to wrap her still open spear wound on her left arm just above her elbow. As the enchanted cloth touched the open flesh it began working its magic. Feeling better but not willing to put her armor back on she stuffed it into her small bag that was nearly only the size of a small coin purse, but it had of course been enchanted. So she could probably stuff Oblivion into it, though she highly doubted the Deathcharger would ever let her try such a ridiculous thing. She attached it to her thin leather belt that wrapped her waist. Then bending down she attached her baldric to her torso and sheathed her massive Runeblade. Raising her hand she once again summoned her Deathcharger.

Nothing happened, no skeletal, horned, black stallion clad in ragged trappings and skull decorated armor appeared. She once again waved her hand again to only have the same effect. Stomping on the ground angrily the female Death Knight set off a slow walk through the trees in a random direction. Many hours passed and when the sun was nearly set she heard a twig snap from her right side.

Spinning around she gazed into the four steel colored eyes of two pale human-like creatures. But something was off. Their strides were too graceful and when one's black hair swished she saw short human-sized ears but brought to elvish points.

"Halt human. Stand still or you shall have our arrows through your gut. State your name and purpose being here so close to Imladris?" The male elvish creature asked as they both raised their bows to full draw and aimed them at her head.

"I should be saying the same thing as to why two clip-eared Blood Elves have the audacity to threaten a Death Knight of the Ebon Blade." The black haired woman sneered back and watched as the elves looked angered and tightened their bow strings even more. Drawing her Runeblade, Zamira took a wide combat stance and prepared to battle the odd elves. They both let loose their arrows and she didn't even waste the effort to dodge them but grinned wildly as one lodged itself in her abdomen while the other better aimed arrowed plunged its barbed head deep into her chest. Laughing with an insane grin on her face as small trickles of blood oozed from her wounds but she never faltered her step once and kept smiling.

"What are you, woman?!" One elf asked his voice filled with anger and disbelief. The Death Knight turned to him and met his steel eyes with her own eerie glowing ice blue ones as the aura of the undead in the form of bluish smoke flowed from her eyes.

"I am one of the undead, not alive like you, but still not one of the eternally deceased. I cannot be killed as easily as you think. Nor could you even begin to imagine my power." Zamira stated as she drew her Runeblade from her baldric and clenching it in both her pale hands, callused from her past and present lives. Lunging forward with uncanny speed she swung at the elf-creature on the right who dodged quickly and backpedaled away from her.

But whilst Zamira was focused on one the other lunged forward and tackled her to the ground while her Runeblade flew from her hands. The arrows in her body rammed through the remaining tissue and thanks to the force the barbs and nearly half of the shaft stuck out through her back which made her groan quietly as it burned a little bit but then the pain faded even though one of the arrows had clearly passed through her heart.

The second elf-like creature ran forward and brought forth a length of thick rope and quickly bound her hands behind her and then roughly pulled out the arrows and after frowning at their bloodied state he cast them to the ground. Struggling and twisting in the elves strong grip Zamira found her energy draining away so quickly as if a warlock had cast Soul Drain on her.

Lying still after losing most of her energy and her will to fight against these most likely insane Blood Elves, Zamira waited and watched as one elf took her pouch off her belt. Only about four feet away her Runeblade lay on the ground and the other elf that was not searching her body for hidden weapons and the like went up to it and picked it up off the ground. She could see in his eyes and could only watch as his arm muscles bulged and stretched at the massive weight of her sword. Too stressed by the weight he dropped it unceremoniously on the ground and Zamira narrowed her eyes.

"Hey! Be careful with that, elf! My Runeblade is the only weapon I have with me right now!" She yelled furiously as one elf led her by her bound hands to a dark bay horse that silently waited with another nearly forty feet away. His companion, who had somehow picked up the Runeblade again and attached it with rope to the back of his own horse, then together they picked me up and laid me over the saddle like a killed deer.

"Behave yourself woman and we shall not harm you, but pull another stunt like that and you may find your own blade buried through your spine. Undead or not, that will most definitely maim you or luckily even kill you." One of the elves said as he mounted his steed with her Runeblade tied behind him, while the other mounted next to her body. Lightly tapping their horse's sides with their heels the horses cantered off while Zamira bounced uncomfortably in the saddle.

Only about half an hour passed and as Zamira woke from her dazed trance-like state she found herself looking at cobbled ground. Bending her neck upwards she looked around and saw a fair looking small city. Milling around everywhere were more of their strange clip-eared Blood Elves, and honestly the city itself looked like the pictures she had seen of Silvermoon City on Bloodmyst Isle. Though it distinctly lacked the amount of red and gold she had heard about.

Walking briskly from a large and graceful building a tall black haired elf-creature strode forth followed by four heavily armed warriors, though with their bows they seemed to be more along the lines of hunters. The two that bore her and her beloved sword reigned in their steeds and dismounted and bowed their head at the tall figure.

"Father, we found this woman wandering close to our borders. She claims to be neither living nor dead and carries this massive weapon that radiates an unnatural evil." The elf that stood next to Zamira's feet stated as the one he called his father walked forward and lightly place his fingers under her chin. Titling her head upwards as far as it could go he gazed into her cold blue eyes that still had wisps of the blue undead smoke floating from them. His fingers burned against her skin like they were on fire but really it was just because her undead state had rendered her body eternally cold. Then letting her head rest back down he lightly touched her still open arrow wounds, flinching slightly as his fingertips prodded the openings. Backing away he turned to the armored guards he had brought with him.

"Take her to one of the healing rooms, but station four guards at her door and keep her feet and hand bound securely." He ordered them sternly. Bowing their heads they walked forwards and hauled Zamira from the horse's back. Leading her in front of them she was herded into the larger building and down many sunlit halls to a plain room with only one small window. Taking more rope they bound her hands more securely and then tied her feet together. Then carefully one picked her up with one arm under her knees and another supporting her back laid her on the plain cream colored sheets of the simple bed. Feeling her energy draining away once again Zamira could only surrender to the darkness once again.

Awakened by someone's quiet murmuring Zamira opened her eyes and looked around. Sitting in a chair by her bedside was the tall regal looking man that she had met earlier. Opening his eyes he looked down into her own with his gray eyes.

"I am glad to see that you have awoken, I have many questions for you. But for now we shall remain with simple questions as your way of paying me back for healing your arrow wounds and also freeing you from the bonds I had placed upon you just as a precaution." He said in a kind tone which surprised the Death Knight quite a bit for she had been expecting to be exiled, maybe even executed…somehow.

"Very well, I may be dead in a sense, but my paladin honor remains so I will heed by your rules… for now." Zamira said in her normal voice which sounded as if it had an echo of sorts, as she laid her head back down against the soft pillow that lay under her thick locks of ink black hair.

"I am pleased. Now first things first I believe introductions are in order. I am Lord Elrond, the lord of Imladris, the elven city you currently are in." He said giving his name and his title, while bowing his head in a polite gesture.

"I am Death Knight Zamira Snowfang of the Ebon Blade." She stated in a matter of fact tone while a look of confusion passed over Lord Elrond's face.

"You bear a strange name and a strange title for I have never heard of a Death Knight or this Ebon Blade you speak of." He said in a puzzled tone.

"A Death Knight is one who was of the holy light who had died in battle, but then brought back into the world of the living by the Lich King into his corrupted services to conquer all of Azeroth. The Ebon Blade is those of us that escaped the confines of the infinite consciousness of the Lich King. We rebel against him in order to slay him ourselves." Zamira explained in a matter of fact type of voice while Elrond furrowed his eyebrows and contemplated the information that the undead female had just told him.

"You seem to have endured much in your life. Though I understand what you are a bit more than before. Onwards with my questions; how did you come to be here? For if I am assuming correctly you are most definitely not of this world." He said while meeting her eyes with a serious look. The female Death Knight sat up suddenly her eyes widened in horror staring at the elvish-creature.

"What do you mean?! This is still Azeroth is it not?!" Zamira asked loudly staggering up from the bed while Lord Elrond too stood and stayed a careful distance away from the shocked woman.

"No, this is not your home world. This is a place called Middle Earth." Elrond said and watched as the woman collapsed onto her knees and bent her body to lie close to the ground. Approaching her carefully Lord Elrond knelt beside her and with a light hand rubbed small circles on her back in a comforting manner. Standing up suddenly Zamira and knocking away his hand, she then sat down once again on the bed.

"I should have realized this when I felt none of my runic power residing in my body any longer. I knew it! That bloody demonic bolt that came out of nowhere sent me here! I bet it was one of Arthas' warlock whores; he had always hated me since I never returned his affections after Jaina left him. That whole entire legion of liches was meant for me!" Zamira said having a revelation as to what had happened.

"So you were sent here by some sort of evil magic, sent by a man whom had romantic interests in you?" Elrond asked as he once again sat in the chair that stood next to her bedside. All Zamira could do was nod. Sighing in understanding Elrond lay a burning hand on her shoulder which made her flinch at first because of the heat.

Outside there seemed to be a great commotion and Elrond stood up and made for the door. Stopping before it he looked back and with a quick wave of his hand he beckoned for Zamira to accompany him, since now he had trust in her. Rushing through vast halls they appeared in the very courtyard where she had first been when arriving to this city. There in the center was a great white gelding and mounted on its back was a dark haired woman though upon closer inspection she was one of these elf-creatures. Carried in her arms was a small child-like figure that Zamira t first thought may be some sort of gnome.

Elrond rushed forward and took the small being in his own arms and quickly leaned over and whispered something to the elvish woman. Lord Elrond then dashed away and then from nowhere three white clad figures appeared and followed after him. As Zamira made to go after him she was stopped by a gentle warm hand on her shoulder. Looking behind and slightly downward she saw the dark haired elvish woman who looked up into her eyes since Zamira was a few inches taller than her.

"My father asked me to bring you to the baths and get you some new clothing. So if you would kindly follow me." She said as she walked off in the opposite direction her father had taken. Zamira confused but willing to take a bath and clean up a bit she followed the elvish woman. They came to a rounded building that from the air's scent of flower oils was some sort of bathhouse. Leading her to a private room that was far in the back the elf gestured for her to enter first.

"My name is Arwen, and I heard that you are apparently from another world. I find that extremely fascinating. Could you possibly tell me more about it?" Arwen asked, curiosity was obvious in her voice and Zamira found a small warm feeling bloom in her deadened chest in knowing someone wished to know of her world.

"Very well come on then we shall bathe together and I shall share the knowledge of my world with you." Zamira said as she carefully with ginger movement stripped from her beaten and battle worn clothes and undergarments. Arwen did the same and they both slid into the warm water.

Hours passed and the women had bonded like most women would, passing tales from each of their worlds; though Arwen found Zamira's stories much more intriguing. Rising from the water as it streamed off their bodies they grabbed warm fluffy cloths that had been prepared for them to dry their skin with. Looking down the female Death Knight only saw two dresses, though one was slightly larger than the other.

"Do I have to wear this garment, I have never worn such feminine clothing as this before?" Zamira asked while Arwen shot her a quick smile.

"I'm afraid you must, at least for the time being while newer garments can be made for you. Now since we have been bathed is there anywhere else you wish to go?" Arwen asked as she aided Zamira into her dark blue dress that was lined with silver embroidery and around the waist was a silver cloth sash. Over the sash Zamira buckled on her small leather belt from before which she had commanded the maid that had come in to leave behind. The female Death Knight was not pleased at the amount of flesh the dress showed, for she was used to be encased in metal plate armor entirely, with no skin except for her face showing.

"I would like to get my bag and Runeblade back, but I doubt I have gained enough of your father's trust quite yet. But I would not mind a tour of this place to see how your kind of elves lives." Zamira said as she followed Arwen out of the bathhouse and back into the main courtyard.

"Very well." Arwen said simply and they walked swiftly off to explore this elven city that they called Imladris, or Rivendell. Later as the sun set over the rocky cliffs that encased Rivendell a neigh was heard and the excited chattering of voices. Arwen hearing the noises dashed off in that direction which ironically was once again the main courtyard. Zamira not wanting to be left alone in the still new and strange place, hurried after her with long loping strides.

Arriving in the courtyard, Zamira saw three small gnome-beings again just like the one that had arrived earlier. Next to them was a tall rugged looking man holding the reigns of a palomino pony. Arwen leapt into the man's embrace which caused him to drop the pony's reigns. Zamira feeling out of the loop walked forward slowly and approached the gnome-like creatures. Seeing her coming they turned and saw the undead woman with her deathly pale skin, glowing blue eyes and gray lips. One with lighter hair than the others looked extremely frightened, one with a darker hair color seemed wary of her but the one with the lightest hair color bounded forward.

"Hello there, Milady. I'm Peregrin Took, but you can call me Pippin." He said as he smiled up into her now shocked face. The other one who seemed to have followed after Peregrin got over his wariness and approached her too.

"And I am Meriadoc Brandybuck, otherwise known as Merry and behind us there is Samwise Gamgee, who usually prefers to be called Sam." He said while pointing to the lighter haired one who held the reigns of the pony now.

"Pleasure to meet you, I am Zamira Snowfang." The female Death Knight said and left off her title because honestly she had always had a soft spot for younger beings. When visiting Stormwind she had always made it a habit to donate to the orphanages and play with the young children.

"That's a strange name, but Zamira is very pretty sounding." Pippin said. The undead woman smiled as kindly as she could and thanked the small-being.

"Just curious, but what exactly are you?" Zamira asked, stunned by her voice's innocence though it still sounded cold, echoing and grating.

"Why we're Hobbits, Milady." Merry said in a friendly voice. Zamira nodded and dedicated to her memory that the very small-folk like Pippin and Merry were called Hobbits. From behind her she heard two quiet voices conversing in a graceful and flowing language. Turning around she set her blue gaze on the rugged man and Arwen who stood very close to his side. Walking forward Zamira saw that she was merely an inch shy of being the man's height.

"Arwen please introduce me to this friend of yours." The man requested as he met Zamira's eyes dead on and studied them carefully.

"Aragorn, this is Zamira Snowfang. She was captured by Elladan and Elrohir yesterday on our borders but she has proved to be trustworthy and we became friends." Arwen said while smiling to Zamira who felt her lips twitch as she tried to muster a warm smile in return but the undead woman could not. Nodding the man named Aragorn turned and left them both and took the palomino pony from Sam's hands and led it away.

"Come along Zamira I had not realized that you had not eaten at all since you have been here. You must be starving beyond all belief." Arwen said as she took Zamira's cold hand in her own and led her to another building.

"I do not require food at this time, Arwen I am still perfectly fine." Zamira answered her voice sounding as it normally did, cold and grating like the clash of metals.

"But when was the last time you ate?" Arwen asked turning towards the undead woman.

"I last ate yesterday I had a single piece of dried meat from my rations. I do not require food as often as a living being would. I can go two weeks without any food and still fight for countless hours at full strength." Zamira stated.

"Very well if you are positive; then I would imagine you are tired then so I shall bring you back to the room you were in this morning."The elvish woman said and then brought the Death Knight back to healing quarters she had been in last night. Bidding her a good night Arwen left Zamira and closed her door. Shedding the dark blue gown Zamira pulled on a simple white nightgown that had been left on her bed sheets. Lying down on the bed, Zamira closed her eyes and fell into the realm of sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Back again! Sorry for the delay but as usual my common short attention span and short term memory decided to plague me…again. But I would just like to take up about two lines to reply and thank CatgirlKitsune for being my first reviewer and also to reply to her comments: **

**I do indeed plan to make Zamira be the sadistic and crazy Death Knight that messes everything up but I do want to bring some softer notes to mellow it out for the softer hearted readers, but do not fret there will be plenty gore, mayhem and WoW randomness to come. **

**Disclaimer: As usual (you would think people would know by now) I am neither J.R.R. Tolkien because he is still dead (unless he somehow got raised from the dead too) and neither am I Blizzard Entertainment (no matter how much I hope I'm enough of a technology nerd to get to work there).**

**P.S. Sorry for the shortness it was 11:20 at night and I usually don't have a lot of tolerance for late night writing sprees, mainly just late night reading sprees.**

Zamira awoke to birds chirping, which was new to her since in the fortress belonging to the Ebon Hold where she usually rested all you could here was the shrill whistle of the vicious wind against the stone. Sitting up on the bed the undead woman rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked around blearily. It appeared to be only a few hours after dawn since the sunlight was just beginning to stream through her high placed window. Standing up, Zamira found yet again another gown waiting for her. This one was silver colored with a black satin sash, and along the sleeve and collar's edges was black embroidery that looked to be ivy leaves. Lying on the floor next to the bed was a pair of black feminine slippers.

Sighing heavily in disappointment the undead woman got dressed in the outfit, though getting the dress on initially gave her a little trouble. Opening her door quietly Zamira glanced around with her glowing eyes and saw no one standing in the hall. Scrambling through her mind she attempted to remember the building that had been the Dining Hall. After arriving at the main courtyard she sniffed the air which smelt of fresh baked bread and some form of meat being roasted. Following the scent she walked briskly to that particular building.

Talking loudly and seeming to be enjoying themselves the three Hobbits were dining and further up the table Lord Elrond, Arwen and the man Aragorn also ate but spoke in hushed tones. Walking into the room apparently made them all stop as they looked up and watched her. Shaking off the attention like it was nothing the Death Knight walked over to where Merry and Pippin were eating. Pulling out a chair she sat next to Merry and pulled over a plate of meats.

"Good morning Zamira." Pippin greeted in a friendly and happy voice. Nodding politely to the Hobbit the woman continued to pile her plate full of the wonderful smelling foods. She heard someone laugh and she glanced up to meet Arwen's eyes.

"What do you find so humorous Arwen?" Zamira asked while she filled her goblet with some sort of fruit juice that was in a pitcher.

"Only your current appetite, last night I distinctly remember you declining any food." The elvish woman replied.

"Indeed. I also recall saying that I was not in any need for sustenance of any type be it food or drink, but now I seem to have a mild hunger…" Zamira said but faded off at the end as she remembered her 'other' hunger, the hunger that all undead felt constantly. Her eyes burned it possible an even brighter shade of icy cobalt blue as she stared off into the distance. Faintly, as if from the other end of a vast field, she heard voices and felt as if a breeze were lightly touching her. The voices got louder and louder until at last she snapped out of her stupor. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts she looked around and saw all six of her dining mates looking concerned.

"Lady Snowfang, what just happened?" The man Aragorn asked with a curious face but she could see that he still distrusted her, at least to the point that he wished to know of her inner thoughts.

"It was merely a memory, nothing more." Zamira lied as she began to consume her food. It seemed both elves and the human had picked up on the lie, while the three Hobbits seemed to accept it.

Suddenly there was a great cry from outside and one could hear what seemed to be the thunderous flapping of a giant bird. Racing from the Dining Hall and into the courtyard the seven witnessed as a large golden brown eagle landed down on the cobbled ground. Off of its back a gray cloaked figure slid down and landed on the cobbles. The air around the clearly male figure rippled with magical energy and Zamira felt her skin tingle with the familiar power that she felt from so many of her mage and necromancer companions. Twinkling sky blue eyes glistened from underneath bushy silver eyebrows and a wrinkled face of one who had to be nearly seventy or so winters old.

"Gandalf, finally you have arrived. Later I wish to hear of the cause of your delay, my wizard friend. But for now I believe you would like to clean up and change your garments." Lord Elrond said as he companionably took the wizard's arm and led him away. Upon his passing Zamira, Gandalf met her eyes with a serious glance that clearly meant that the wizard would be talking to her in the near future as well.

An hour passed and Zamira had spent most of that time in her room performing her rigorous work outs to remain at top battle form. She currently was bending over and touching the wooden floor with her palms as she kept both her legs perfectly straight. Clad in a spare forest green man's tunic and a pair of Arwen's riding breeches which she had obtained from Arwen herself after politely requesting them. Zamira's ears perked when she heard light knocking upon her door.

Standing up straight and to her full height of six feet the undead woman went to her door and opened it. There on her threshold clad in plain, gray woolen robes, carrying a matching pointed hat in his wrinkled hand and grasping a tall wooden staff stood the wizard himself. His long silvery hair was flatter now and tidied up as was his long beard and mustache. His eyes once again sparkling with curiosity but in them also mingled a deep seriousness.

"Zamira Snowfang, I have heard a little of you from Lord Elrond. But he, along with the other elves of Rivendell, wish to know if you are a threat to them. I of course bear no hatred or suspicion of you but I must comply to the Lord's request." Gandalf said as he walked into her room and stood near the Death Knight's bed while she closed the heavy door behind him.

"How do you plan to prove this, Wizard Gandalf?" Zamira asked as she sat upon the bed and made herself comfortable, the wizard seeing her ease in the situation also sat upon the bed next to her.

"Gifted with the powers of the Istari, I will use my magic to delve into the thoughts of your mind. Do you mind such intrusion?" Gandalf asked as he rolled his right sleeve up to his elbow and looked to Zamira awaiting her answer.

"I do not mind, I have endured far worse for far little." Zamira said as Gandalf extended his hand and lightly placed his fingertips on her temple.

Far in her mind she felt as though some sort of wispy being was floating amongst her thoughts.

"Let us look at your life. That should be enough evidence to whether or not you are a threat to the elves." Zamira heard Gandalf say but she was being dragged away into her consciousness by the ghostly presence in her mind. There in front of them was a bright white light and the ghostly presence took the form of Gandalf who looked like he was flying. They passed through the white light and appeared right in the middle of Zamira's earliest memories.

Blurry but still understandable Gandalf and Zamira gazed upon a lively black haired woman clad in heavy plate armor with a massive two-handed sword slung across her back. Her whole body emanated a holy aura and Zamira found herself backing away from the woman, even though she knew that it was her during her mortal life.

"Who is this woman?" Gandalf asked from his place floating next to the Death Knight as he studied the courageous Paladin woman.

"I believe this is me, before my death and tainted rebirth. I was told by my superiors that I was once a powerful Paladin of the Knights of the Silver Hand, now I see that is most likely true." Zamira said as she studied her former self. Suddenly the image was swept away and Zamira saw a bloody battle underway beneath their very feet.

"What battle is this?" Gandalf asked as her watched the different races and classes fight it out against the masses of the Scourge who were rushing in. There standing as a line of defense mounted upon their Chargers was a line of Paladins. Almost as if by will the image focused on the same black haired woman this time having donned a plate helm over her hair.

"I do not know… maybe this is my death." Zamira said as she watched the silent memory as the Paladins charged forward and attacked the Scourge. Suddenly a white flash passed over and then they were watching as Death Knights sifted through the bodies and pulled out every dead Paladin. Zamira watched a Blood Elf Death Knight picked out her bloody, pale body from the corpses and slung her over his shoulder. Then the image was swept away again.

This time they saw the female Death Knight as she was now. Her Runeblade flashing in the misty twilight as she and two other Death Knights with a mob of summoned ghouls ripped their way through living enemies. The small attacking force was composed of two Night Elf Hunters and their pets, one Human Paladin, a Dwarf Priest and two Gnome Mages. A great gold eyed Frostsaber lunged at Zamira but twisting wildly she sent it crashing into the ground with a plated fist and then unleashing unholy energy she plagued its body with diseases and watched it decay around her Runeblade. Cracking a wide grin under her hood and her cobalt blue eyes glowed brightly the female Death Knight spun around and fended off the other hunter's pet.

Sneaking up behind her was a sickly green colored Felsworn Daggermaw raptor, its fang filled jaws salivating eager to rend flesh be it dead or alive. Hearing its snarls the Death Knight turned and grinned at the vicious beast.

"Hey there, want to come and play?" She asked in a sickly sweet voice that still managed to echo like the clanging of steel. It snarled and lunged at her with its fanged maw wide open. Zamira held up her gauntleted lower arm and fended off the bite with the hardened plate. With a quick one handed movement she sheathed her Runeblade upon her back and with a plated fist she reached and grasped the raptors neck firmly. Beginning to laugh as she felt the scales crack under her strengths pressure and the raptor as it screeched in pain. Freeing her other arm she wrapped her hand around the raptors lower jaw and ignored the pain as the fangs split through the leather undersides of the plate gloves and through her skin. With a mighty yank she ripped the lower jaw off the raptor and laughing maniacally as the bright red blood gushed from the fleshy wound and spilled all over her armor and the ground. Crunching the nearly dead raptors neck in her hand she flung it to the ground and with a fluid movement unsheathed her Runeblade and spun around with a quick thrust of her sword.

There, with an angered expression on his dusky purple face was one of the Night Elf Hunters. Grinning sadistically Zamira twisted her Runeblade slowly and let unholy energy slowly seep from her body, through the blade and into the Night Elf's body. Suddenly out of nowhere a sword was rammed through her plate armor and out the other side. Sticking out of her body was a now blood red blade. Frowning, the Death Knight twisted her wrist all the way and then wrenched the Runeblade from the Night Elf's decaying body and pulled herself off the other blade. Turning slowly while her torso bled freely all over the ground the Death Knight came face to face with the other Night Elf. Glancing around she found herself alone while the other ghouls and her fellow kin fought the Paladin, Priest and Mages.

From above Gandalf watched closely but every once so often he glanced over at the real Zamira and saw her watching the bloody battle with what looked like a primal hunger. Her gray lipped mouth was open slightly and she seemed to be breathing heavier than normal as she watched her memory occur before her very eyes. Her glowing blue eyes seemed like smoldering sapphires. But before everything could become out of hand the white flash appeared again and they were swept away from that memory.

"Your memories are quite incomplete." Gandalf commented as they were swept through random memories.

Next they appeared in a great hall filled with every race that had been converted into a Death Knight. Zamira realized that this was the day when Highlord Darion Mograine had told all the freed Death Knights that from that day on they were to fight for Azeroth and aim to destroy the Lich King and his subordinates. Searching together they found her near the front her hands resting on her Runeblade which she was using as support while a male Dwarf Death Knight rambled on about something unimportant next to her. Then her eyes strayed to where the Highlord himself stood off to the side waiting for everyone to finish socializing as the living beings called it. Looking up from his plate of strange foods the Highlord's eyes met her own and Zamira felt a painful twinge in her gut that forced her to look down at pretend to be listening to the Dwarf.

Meanwhile the present Zamira undauntedly let he blue eyes roam over the Highlord. She seemed unabashed to study his muscular physique. Wide shoulders, rippling muscles preserved by undeath, golden locks that trailed to his shoulders framing a deathly pale face set with similar glowing blue eyes. Zamira felt the hot burning feeling deep in her gut and reveled as it slowly crawled through her body but burned intensely near her womanhood and muscled thighs that yearned for his sensual icy touch.

Yes, many a night deep within the Ebon Hold the Highlord had made love to her, mainly out of boredom with violence. But why not violence and sex were close relatives but over time she had seen the Highlord watching her when she returned from missions and battles. Stood protectively when other males of any race approached her for their own quests, certainly the undead man could not feel such pitiful emotions. He himself once vowed unconsciously to never love anyone, to the Archlich Kel'thuzad. But before Zamira could truly enjoy her moment of pleasure upon gazing on the last Mograine that memory too was swept away and the female Death Knight felt the ghostly presence of the wizard withdrawing.

Next thing she knew they were sitting back on the soft, warm bed in Rivendell and it was near sunset. Gandalf looked exhausted and the pale woman that sat across from him looked no better. Her skin was snow white and her eyes were dull with her lacking energies.

"Rest Lady Snowfang, we shall rest then I shall share my findings with Lord Elrond and get you back your belongings seeing as you seem to mellow out rather quickly and pose no threat to us currently." Gandalf said as he reclaimed his staff from the wall where it had been leaning and hobbled out the now open door. Feeling too exhausted to even do anything Zamira just readjusted her body and then fully clothed collapsed onto the sheets and fell asleep once again.


	3. Chapter 3

**A loving shout out to ****Sharnorasian Empire**** for being a great reviewer…and possibly the most fun person to talk to on Fanfiction… so far. And I think personally I should dedicate this whole entire chapter to her for being awesome and persistent. But she can keep the pitchfork, tar and feathers to herself. Haha!**

**Honestly I think this is kind of like a filler chapter but to get things moving and keep my updating up and running I cut the true Chapter 3 in half! Yes that's right folk IN HALF!! But I want to keep people rather satisfied and keep them reading…and by the way people I just want to say... REVIEW PLEASE!!!! I feel unloved with only two measly reviews (though secretly like a page and a half of me and ****Sharnorasian Empire**** talking but that doesn't count).**

**Disclaimer: blah, blah, blah, the obvious, blah, not J.R.R Tolkien, blah, blah, not Blizzard Entertainment… BLAH!! There I think I covered everything. :P**

**P.S. REVIEW PLEASE PEOPLE!! I KNOW PEOPLE ARE READING THIS STORY SO BE BRAVE PRESS THAT BUTTON AND WRITE ME SOMETHING ABOUT HOW YOU THINK IT'S COMING ALONG. Really people it's not that hard.**

* * *

Footsteps echoed on the polish stone floor of leather booted feet and the soft slap of slipper clad feet. Zamira sat up on her bed and walked swiftly to the door to open it. Swinging the heavy oak towards her she saw Arwen with a pale hand extended with her knuckles ready to rap upon the wood. In her hands was a familiar black satchel and behind her two ranger-like male elves stood carrying something large wrapped in heavy woolen cloth.

"Gandalf has told my father of what he saw in your mind and told him to return your belongings to you. So here is your satchel which we could never even open to begin with and here is that monstrous glowing blade you carried with you." Arwen said as she handed over the black leather coin purse and the wrapped sword.

Arwen glanced at the elven guards and with a nod of her dark haired head dismissed them silently. She then turned to watch as the undead female Death Knight before her cradled the massive sword in her arms like a newborn babe. With pale, callused and short nailed hands Zamira began to uncover her Runeblade from the woolen blanket. She frowned as she saw the drying blood ground into the runes that were still glowing but not as strongly as they should have been. Holding it steadily in one hand she let the gray woolen blanket drop to the ground. Glancing at Arwen, she saw the elvish woman marveling at the sheer size of the two-handed sword.

Glancing down she saw the baldric that held her Runeblade in place lying amongst the blanket and bending down swiftly she plucked it from the floor. Carefully she aligned the partial sheath with the blade and slid the Runeblade into its home away from its true home, which was in her hands rending flesh from anything that dared to strike against them.

Then Zamira placed her weapon on top of the bed and went to her enchanted satchel and flipped the lid open like it was nothing. She saw out of the corner of her eyes that Arwen was creeping closer curious as to what she carried inside the tiny bag. There, lying in perfect order were her pieces of plate armor, trinkets, charms, provisions and other such items of more sentimental value and items she needed to sell for gold. Also lying in its own pocket of the satchel was the small or not so small pile of gold, silver and copper coins that made up about one twentieth of her total money.

Piece by piece Zamira pulled out her armor from her helm, which she rarely wore preferring to just keep her cloak's hood up, to her plated boots. Zamira closely examined every piece for marring or flaws in the metal with her trained eye that was highly skilled in Blacksmithing. Turning to the dark haired elven woman she met the sky blue eyes with her own.

"I am in need of a forge; do you have one within the city?" She asked her metallic voice while Arwen surveyed the masses of metal that looked too large and too heavy for one woman even if she was undead or not to even carry, but Arwen saw that Zamira had no problems what so ever carrying the blade with even one hand not to mention two.

"Yes we have a forge and it is quite close as well, if you would so kindly follow me." Arwen said as she turned and walked to the door and patiently stood watching as the Death Knight repacked her armor in the satchel and with a few deft hand movements had strapped the leather baldric to her back complete with its passenger, the Runeblade.

Weaving amongst the graceful buildings of Rivendell that just seemed to absorb and reflect sunlight the two women made their way towards a more shadowed part of Rivendell where faint traces of smoke plumed into the clear air. From within they heard the banging on a hammer on metal and form within they could see two male elves hard at work. Both had dark brown hair with a slight wave to it that was pulled back into a single thick braid. They stopped their work and looked outside to where the two females stood waiting.

"Good morning, Lady Arwen, and also to you Lady Snowfang." The one on the right greeted while the other one nodded in welcome. Now upon closer examination the two were no doubt twins for they looked near impossibly like the other and neigh could you tell the right from the left. Moving into the shady forge area Zamira briskly strode in and went directly to the forge. Arwen intercepted the elvish men as they began to lunge forward at the Death Knight who was inspecting their tools of trade.

"Lady Snowfang is in need of your forge for her own personal uses to fix her equipment. You both may take the time she takes to mend her items off and relax." Arwen said as she steered them out of the forge. Turning back to the already at work undead woman Arwen sat down gracefully on a woven wicker chair and watched Zamira work.

Raising the forge's heat to be enough to soften the metal of her armor Zamira set to work on banging out the dents and scratched in the surface. Then heating the metal again she bent it back to its rightful position. Pulling from her bag a bar of Titansteel she melted off small amounts and poured it into the deeper gouges and waited as it cooled and then smoothed down the rough edges. Nearly two hours passed before her armor was in pristine condition nearly marveling the condition in which she had obtained them at. Next she turned her glowing blue eyes upon her Runeblade that lay silently on a sturdy wooden table.

Picking up the baldric Zamira slid the massive sword from its sheath and gazed at it seeing what repairs needed to be made. The details were a bit faded and the runes were only faintly glowing whereas normally they would give off a constant stream of blue misty energy. The edges were strangely dull, barely even sharp enough to slice her finger open though it still did and then greedily soaked up the red blood into the blade itself.

Looking around she brought out a sponge and some lukewarm water and scrubbed at the metal surface trying to get out what grime, dirt and dried blood she could. Then she brought out a brush and carefully chipped away at the persistent stains that remained after the bath. After the runed blade and demonic looking, horned skull crossguard's details were grime-free Zamira moved to the grinding wheel used to sharpen blades of all kinds. For twenty minutes straight Zamira pedaled the wheel and ground the edge of her Runeblade to a suitable sharpness though she was going to finish it herself with a whetstone in her satchel.

Gazing down at the nearly done blade Zamira smiled faintly as she saw the runes along the brow of the horned skull that spelled out her Runeblade's name. As a high-ranking officer of the Knight of the Ebon Blade, more specifically a Commander; though they often preferred to call her Lady-Commander Snowfang, she had earned the right to name her Runeblade. There etched on the blade runes spelt out Mistrend the feminine yet violent name worthy of a Runeblade.

"Are you finished with you use of the forge?" Zamira heard Arwen asked from the entrance. Turning she nodded to the elvish woman and gathered her belongings. Sliding the sword back into its baldric she fastened it once again to her back and then clipped the black leather satchel to her thin feminine belt that had accompanied that days dress.

"Good, now as I had promised before I shall take you to the seamstresses and have them make you some clothing. Which for you I would assume to be tunics, leggings and anything else you would need." Arwen said as she turned away and the two headed towards the other side of Rivendell.

Five minutes later even at a brisk walking pace they crossed over the whole width of the city and arrived at a stone building that pretty much looked the same as every other building. Zamira walked in hesitantly and she saw three young women who looked to be only in their late teen years but their different colored eyes spoke of age and wisdom.

"Greetings Lady Arwen; I see that you have brought the newcomer here to be fitted for clothes. Shall we be fitting her for dresses and gowns or for her rugged style of clothing that we saw from the tatters of her old pair?" One with pale silvery blonde hair asked with a voice that carried a gentle burr in her accent that hinted at her origins were not from this city.

"Lady Snowfang wishes for clothing similar to those she came in, such as tunics, leggings and the like." Arwen said while the three elvish women grabbed certain utensils and tools and approached the Death Knight.

"Please come this way to the back room where we can have more privacy." Another one said whose light brown hair shone golden in the sunlight that streamed through a window. The three elves practically dragged the bewildered deathly pale woman into a more shadowed room with thick curtains drawn at every window.

"Now my Lady, please take off your outer garment and we shall measure you." The third and smallest woman said while she grabbed lengths of notched leather from a nearby table. Zamira nodded stiffly and begrudgingly unstrapped her baldric and belt from her body and set them on a table but well within her eyesight for her trust for these strange elves was still at a bare minimum, except for Lord Elrond and Arwen. For those two she held a bit more trust and the respect a subordinate would have for one of a higher power. Next she shed the light, midnight blue silk gown from her pale rounded shoulders and let it drop to the ground. There standing in just a nearly see-through white shift the Death Knight felt vulnerable and she did not like it one bit.

The elvish women hawked around her like an injured prey animal before a pack of wolves. They studied her body's well developed curves from her ample bosom to her wide and sturdy hips. They whispered amongst themselves as they set the leather straps around her breasts and hips measuring them and then to the other parts of her body that would need to be fitted for the clothes. Zamira watched them like a predator with her cold, calculating, glowing cobalt blue eyes. They seemed to shrink away every time they met her gaze. Finally after finishing their measurements the boldest and seemingly the bravest elvish woman turned to the undead woman.

"Now My Lady are there any color preferences you would like to suggest?" She asked. Thinking for a brief moment Zamira chose the main colors of her own usual attire.

"Black and darker hues of gray, blue and purple will be acceptable. Thank you for your services." She said in her cold metallic voice that seemed to make the elvish women cringe back as it reached their sensitive ears. Nodding the elves hustled away and Zamira redressed and regained possession of her belongings. Exiting the seamstresses building the Death Knight found not Arwen waiting for her but Lord Elrond himself.

"Greetings, My Lord." Zamira said with a respectful nod of her head that made her loose ink black hair drape in front of her eyes for a brief moment.

"Good afternoon, Death Knight Zamira." He answered back as they began to walk down a pathway that Zamira vaguely remembered led to the Training Grounds of Rivendell. They walked in silence for only a minute before the elvish lord broke it.

"Gandalf has just now recited his venture into your memories and I am intrigued by the diversity and violence I see permeating your world. But more importantly I have received a missive from my late wife's mother a great elf Queen who had seen a vision pertaining to you and has expressed curiosity in you. But she wishes me to pass along some important information to you. It is in regards to your 'powers' as you call them." He said. Zamira turned her head to face the elvish lord and found him looking straight back at her, not even watching where he was placing his slipper clad feet. Though Zamira was aware that the pathway they traveled currently was quite uninhabited.

"So what does this Elf Queen Mother-in-Law of yours have to say about my Runic Power? Tell me for I greatly miss it, not being about to inflict a deadly disease upon my foes, watch as all the blood in their body freezes solid or watch as the life force of another is absorbed by Mistrend and bestowed upon me." Zamira said letting her minds eyes wander and see various flashes of her horrendous fighting styles which brought a sadistic smile to her grayish lips showing a set of perfect pearly white teeth.

"She says that so long as you remain here in Rivendell you will never regain it, and that she herself may have a cure of sorts that will bring back your powers to their full strength. But she also advises that you must undertake something difficult and strenuous to obtain this cure of hers. But do not fret my Mother-in-Law always speaks in frightening riddles." Lord Elrond said while he studied the female Death Knight's face.

Inside her head, the cogs and gears of Zamira's mind were running full tilt trying to comprehend this new information. So this Elvish Queen thought she had a way to unlock her Runic Power. Zamira kept thinking until she felt a burning hot hand touch the pale skin of her upper arm. Her head snapping to the right to look at Lord Elrond splaying her hair in the air like a fan of ink stained silken threads. While unconsciously her cold, undead, reanimated body flinched away from the heat.

"I also have another request this time coming not from her but from me. In two days time there will be a council with delegates from all the races of our world. I wish for you to be present I have a feeling that you too will play a great part in this council, Death Knight Zamira Snowfang of the Knights of the Ebon Blade." Lord Elrond said clearly stating I that he expected her to be there and emphasizing it by using her full title.

"Very well, My Lord I shall be present at this council. Now if you do not mind, I wish to go to the Training Grounds and practice my skill with the blade." Zamira said as she turned off onto the left pathway that led through a forested garden and then to the flat meadow that had been turned into a practice field. Lord Elrond watched the Death Knight briskly pace away with a soldier's stride and knew in his gut that this odd being of death from another world would most definitely play a large part in the future of Middle Earth.

Zamira on the other hand continued to think and mull over the words Lord Elrond had shared with her. It made her blood boil in an unnatural way to think that this Elvish Queen who knew nothing of her could boast of having a cure for the impediment set upon her. Her Runic Power was sealed away by demonic magic, most likely from that bolt of arcane energy that had hit her and then transported her here. Anger filled her and with a frightful screech she unsheathed Mistrend and decapitated a nearby squirrel that had been scurrying along a branch above Zamira. Blood flowed onto the green grass and the undead woman could only stare balefully at the red liquid. It brought no fire, no passion to her being and therefore she felt even angrier. Furious at being stuck in a god forsaken place such as this, angered at that fact that her powers had been stripped from her like the clothing from a Booty Bay prostitute.

Reaching the nearly empty Training Grounds she found a shaded and secluded place and began her warm up stretches that loosened all her muscles. Still thinking and fuming the Death Knight, even without her power radiated an aura of death, anger and destruction. After finishing her stretched she picked up her Runeblade, Mistrend and began going through all her basic strikes. Then with her minds eyes she imagined blood spilt over the blade that gave its life force to her as payment, diseased fumes rolling off it in clouds, and blue fog cold enough to freeze blood within flesh solid instantly.

Every strike became fiercer and then she began her movements and was slicing and parrying imaginary beasts and humanoids left and right. Her glowing blue eyes burned brighter but all you could see were the plumes of blue mist floating from under her white eyelids. The sunlight faded and Zamira only opened her eyes when she felt the blissful caress of a chilly evening breeze. Then stopping her training her found herself alone on the Training Grounds. Sheathing her Runeblade she began the commute back to her bedroom where she planned to rest well and then enjoy the oncoming day in her armor, normal clothes and possibly even engage in a true fight with one of the braver or possibly more idiotic elves in Rivendell.

Changing into the flimsy nightgown Zamira curled up under her sheets with Mistrend lying directly next to her. Not like she would ever take the chance of it being stolen though the life force of her Vampiric Runeblade would probably take over and corrupt anyone who dared touch it for more than a minute without there being a barrier between their flesh and the sword. Closing her glowing blue eyes the female Death Knight slid into sleep, which for once were filled with happy dreams of her undead life on Azeroth. Though happy for her were gore filled battled were her bath for that day was one of steaming flesh newly separated from its previous owner and the hot red life liquid of those she killed.


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter is dedicated once again to my most awesome fan of this fanfiction Sharnorasian Empire, but also as a side note the next chapter will be dedicated to whoever reviews for this story next. And they shall also get an imaginary slice of pie ^-^.**

**Also sorry to inform you but I have a severe case of procrastination so if my updates are quite spread out it is because I have been distracted by something else, and if I tend to be gone for more than a week with no updates feel free to yell at me through a private message.**

**Disclaimer: I am not J.R.R. Tolkien or Blizzard Entertainment and all things that relate to their creations belong to them. **

**Claimer: However I do own Zamira Snowfang, Oblivion, Mistrend and all other OCs that may or may not be introduced later on along the plotline.**

**P.S: PLEASE REVIEW! I NEED SOME REVIEWS PEOPLE. I NEED THE EXTRA PUSH TO GET THIS FANFIC REALLY ROLLING ONWARDS. **

The next morning Zamira once again woke to chirping birds outside her small window that was flooded with sunlight meaning that it was actually well past dawn. Feeling a faint hunger gnawing at her stomach she rose from the bed and got dressed. At some point during the night a servant or one of the hawkish seamstresses must have snuck in because there, lying on a chair neatly folded was one set of newly sewn clothing. Curious as to what the elvish women had made her the Death Knight walked towards the chair and reached out and grabbed the first article.

The undead female frowned at the long, bell sleeved, dark, grayish blue tunic that when she put it on fell to her knees with splits on either side for freer movement. Underneath the tunic also folded, was an acceptable pair of ink black leggings with a thick waist line tied off by a leather cord. Zamira nodded and agreed that the tunic would have to be fixed and fitted to her preferable style. Finding the only sharp edge she had which was Mistrend she used the keen edge to slice away about six inches of fabric off. Now instead of ending at the middle of her thighs it stopped just at her hips. Also she sliced off the sleeves and made it sleeveless.

Shedding her body of the flimsy nightgown she pulled on a new pair of cloth underclothing that encased her lower regions and a strip of black cloth that she wound around her chest. Then she pulled the black leggings on and tied the leather cord securely. Next she pulled the fixed tunic over her head and found that it fit rather nicely, loose enough for movement but tight enough not to snag in any of her armor.

Hastily Zamira looked around her room and found her satchel lying on a small wooden table on the other side of the room. Inside it she found another leather cord which she used to tie up her hair in a bun atop her head. Then piece by piece she pulled out her Sanctified Scourgelord Battle armor set that was a blackish-blue shade that gave off an aura of death and the chill of Northrend from the very metal. Next she pulled out her Titanium Spikeguards, Girdle of the Impaler, Spiked Deathdealers, Sentinel's Winter Cloak, Sparkling Onyxia Tooth Pendant, Thrice Fanged Signet, Frostbrood Sapphire Ring, Medallion of the Alliance, Living Ice Crystals and her Tabard of the Ebon Blade. All of them just for the parts of her body left unprotected by the Battle Armor.

The Death Knight dearly missed the heavy weight of the metal encasing her body. It was to her like another layer of skin, meant to be upon her at all times. First buckling on her legplates and sighed as she felt the chill of the metal through the thin material of her leggings. Next she buckled on her Spiked Deathdealers which she personally had crafted out of five bars of Titansteel and six Runed Orbs. Next she picked up the heavy and nearly impenetrable Sanctified Scourgelord's Battleplate which entirely encased her chest, back and torso. After so many years of practice buckling the heavy cuirass-like plate came naturally to her. Then she tugged her tabard down over her head and looked nostalgically at the dusky purple cloth with the blue outlined, black sword. Next she buckled the Girdle of the Impaler around her waist and attached the enchanted satchel to it. Next she attached the Sanctified Scourgelord's Shoulderplates onto her Battleplate and secured them down, then slid on and tightened her Titanium Spikeguards to her lower arms and pulled on her gauntlets.

Lying across the bed was her Sentinel's Winter Cloak that was black with blue and gold embroidery along the edge but first Zamira buckled on her baldric with Mistrend sheathed within it. Then with a plain silver metal brooch she clasped the cloak around her shoulders. Then she slid her rings onto her fingers, put the pendant around her neck and let the glistening dragon tooth shine in the sunlight and then placed her trinkets into their appropriate places.

Zamira then glancing down at the now rumpled sheets of her bed, plucked from its cotton-like folds her helmet. She only picked it up just for the enjoyment of looking at the bluish-black metal helm. The helm itself covered all of her head except for her eyes and lower jaw. Curling inch thick ram horns extended from both sides and ended parallel to her lower jaw. The helm boasted raw terrifying power and a bloodthirsty hunger for the gore and blood spilling of a vicious war.

Sighing, the female Death Knight placed the helmet back into her satchel. Closing the satchel and clipping the top flap shut. Over on the wall leaned a ceiling to floor mirror that Arwen had insisted be put in the room had Zamira ever felt the urge to "act like a woman".

Grinning as only one of the undead could Zamira admired her reflection in the silver-backed glass. She looked as she always did, but she always took pride in the fierce and frightening image she presented. Encased in the metal from her neck down, wearing the tabard of her faction, and spoils from the dungeons which she had ripped through and destroyed.

Finally feeling prepared for the day and back to at least half of her normalcy. She felt the emptiness in her veins where her runic power usually held dominion. She felt weak, so vulnerable but also able to defend herself physically with any of her powers. Turning away from the mirror she walked to the door and opened it wide.

Standing there startled at the sudden movement of the door and appearance of the armor-encased woman was Pippin the short Hobbit from the day before.

"Whoa, you sure are scary Miss Zamira." Pippin stated as his eyes glanced at nearly every sharp crevice and spike on her armor.

"Indeed, this armor was meant to instill fear in the enemy before we could even kill them." Zamira stated in her ice cold voice. Nodding in understanding Pippin's eyes seemed to brighten and he jumped in the air and grasped onto Zamira's metal clad hand.

"Come quickly, there is someone I want you to meet!" He enthusiastically yelled as she dragged her down the hallway towards another room in the medical building. Zamira went willingly though if she hadn't wanted to go she could have stood up straight and let the Hobbit dangle from her hand in the air. But in all honesty the undead human woman was curious as to what these Hobbits were like and she was becoming accustomed rather quickly to their high paced energy and inner joyfulness.

They arrived at another door, which had the other two Hobbits sitting on a bench along the wall to the right of it. They jumped off the bench as Zamira and Pippin approached them.

"Pippin you went to go and get _her_?" The light brown haired one named Sam said his voice nearly hissing as he said 'her'. Zamira's eyes narrowed at Sam and her glowing cobalt eyes seemed to get brighter as she evaluated the Hobbit. Sam shrunk back under her gaze and lowered his own chocolate brown eyes to the wooden floor.

"Yeah Sam; I thought that Frodo would like to meet Miss Zamira here and I wanted to introduce Miss Zamira to Frodo." Pippin said happily as he grinned up at her. Zamira's piercing gaze softened under Pippin's and she nodded in acceptance.

"I would like to meet this Frodo if he is a friend of yours. I suspect that he is the dark haired Hobbit who arrived a couple hours before you three?" She asked and got a group nod from all three Hobbits.

"Well then let's not wait any longer." Merry said as he pushed open the door but was then pushed to the side by Sam who charged into the room faster than Zamira's eyes could follow. The other two Hobbits followed him in and Zamira was left outside the chamber door until she heard faint footsteps behind her. Turning she met the steel gray eyes of Lord Elrond who with a gentle tilt of his head told her to enter the room.

"Frodo!" Zamira heard Sam exclaim as he rushed to the bedside of a huge bed in which the small dark haired Hobbit named Frodo was lying.

"Sam!" Frodo said as he sat up a bit more and Sam leaned over the bedside.

"Bless you, you're awake!" Sam yelled again as he positively beamed happiness.

"Sam has hardly left your side." A gruff voice said and Zamira glanced to the other side of the bed and sitting in a wicker chair in his gray robes was Gandalf the Wizard.

"We were that worried about you. Weren't we Mr. Gandalf?" Sam asked the wizard who nodded.

"By the skills of Lord Elrond, you're beginning to mend." Gandalf said again as the elven lord himself walked to the Hobbit's bedside.

"Welcome to Rivendell, Frodo Baggins." Lord Elrond said in his deep voice that foreshadowed great power and wisdom.

"Thank you Lord Elrond." Frodo said his blue eyes sparkling with joy.

Zamira stood off to the side of the door and watched the heartwarming scene until of course Pippin had to realize that he had just abandoned her.

"Frodo I wanted to introduce you to someone." He said as he waved Zamira forward who took a couple steps inwards but remained a fair distance away. Naturally as Frodo's eyes landed on her form he seemed to shrink back against the pillows of his bed with his eyes wide and fearful.

"Greetings Frodo Baggins." Zamira said trying to be as polite and nonthreatening as possible. Frodo did not respond but then Merry laid his hand on Frodo's shoulder.

"I know she's pretty scary Frodo, but really she's pretty friendly, nice, not to mention she's really pretty." Merry said while Zamira felt an unnatural burning in her cheeks but paid no heed to the fiery sensation. Zamira faintly heard something, like a whisper on the breeze. It was dark, melodious, suave, and seemed to want to seduce her into its sway.

She was familiar with such a whisper but the one she had heard was colder, more frigid, strict, but still seductive as it pulled her will to follow its orders. But that was the voice of her old master, the entity created from Arthas Menethil and Ner'Zhul the Lich King. She shook her head lightly and found Gandalf and Lord Elrond's eyes on her. She turned her gaze back to Frodo and stared directing into his eyes.

"You carry a dark secret, do you not?" Zamira asked as a silent gasp went up amongst the beings in the room. Lord Elrond and Gandalf stood slowly and motioned for Zamira to follow them. Nodding she focused upon all four hobbits again including a shocked Frodo who had his hand over his heart and grasped at something that lay beneath his shirt.

"I bid you all farewell, until later on in the day when I know we shall meet again." She said as a goodbye and followed the wizard and elf into the hall. They stood waiting for her and then motioned once again for her to follow them. Down two grand hallways she followed them both until they came to a great wooden door; which beyond laid Lord Elrond's study. Once within its walls they sat and turned to the undead woman who stood still just inside the threshold of the room.

"What did you hear?" Lord Elrond asked as he studied her facial expression.

"I heard a dark and evil voice that sounded the fiery version of my old master's. It attempted to seduce me to follow its will. It told me to kill Frodo and everyone there and take the ring to a giant fortress in a land of fire and ash. But I have broken the control of such a voice over my will once before so I merely ignored it." She said simply as she met the steel gray eyes of the elven lord and the bright blue eyes of the wizard.

"You must never listen to that voice Zamira; it will lead to the destruction of our world. That was the Dark Lord Sauron who needs The Ring which Frodo bears to regain a living body and conquer Middle Earth under his shadow." Gandalf said with all seriousness.

"Understood." Zamira said as she took on a soldier's voice that listened to all orders and never questioned them. She trust the wizard and elf well enough to know when they spoke the truth or if they were deceiving her.

"Very well, you may go and do whatever you wish for the remainder of the day, though throughout the day many representatives from all over Middle Earth will be arriving." Lord Elrond said as he dismissed her with a flick of his hand. Zamira nodded and bowed to the lord and exited the study and traced her way back to the medical building.

From there she proceeded to the dining hall and to the kitchens attached to it. The dining hall was empty for it seemed to be nearly mid morning. She walked to the kitchen door and knocked on it. The door opened and lanky black haired elven male peered through.

"How may I help you Lady Snowfang?" He asked in a rich voice that Zamira bet had won many young elven women's hearts.

"I would like some food and drink." She stated simply and waited as the elf went back into the kitchen and then emerged with a medium plate filled with fruits and some form of dried meat and a mug of what looked like honeyed mead. Handing it to her the male elf winked at her and flashed a bright smile. The male elf could have been flirting with a rock for all the response it got from Zamira who just thanked him and turned to go and sit at a small secluded table off to the side.

After finishing with her meal about twenty minutes later she returned the plate and mug to the kitchen and then decided to walk around leisurely and then maybe go the training grounds again.

Two hours later Zamira heard a commotion from the front gate and she peered around the corner of a building and saw what the noise was about. Through the gate a group of horsemen had come galloping in. They were all middle aged at least except for the man at their lead he seemed to be maybe in his early thirties. His hair, mustache and beard were a blondish-red combined with a light brown. He sat regally upon his steed clad in sturdy riding clothes with a sword strapped on his left hip and a round shield attached to his back. He glanced around and took in the sights of the elven city.

After the elven stable hands and other such people had swept the guests and their mounts away to speak with Lord Elrond and to be escorted to their rooms another party approached. This time all mounted upon light colored horses with white, light gray and gold pelts. All were fair haired and possessed the facial features of elves. So Zamira assumed that these were more elves from a different region of this world called Middle Earth.

They too dismounted and their steeds were led away and they too were swept up by the welcome committees and towards their rooms. As the elves were swept away the youngest one who at the same time seemed to be their leader looked around the city and his startling ice blue eyes met her glowing blue eyes. They locked instantly and his blonde eyebrows arched gracefully and Zamira's dark brows lowered as she narrowed her eyes at the curious young elf.

But then he was pulled away and their eye contact broke. Zamira shook her head to rid herself of the imprinted force of his eyes. Not even five minutes later a group of familiar beings trudged through the gate. Zamira grinned as she saw the stout and disgruntled looking dwarves enter the city. Their small eyes shifted around inspecting every corner and eyeing the approaching elves with distrust and dislike. There were three dwarves; one with a snow white beard, mustache and hair that bore a small one handed axe at his waist and a shield on his back. A black haired dwarf who wielded a short sword on one hip and a one handed axe on the other and lastly and most likely their leader a red haired dwarf who had a small axe on his hip and a large battle axe on his back.

Zamira no having seen these visitors went to the training ground and practice with Mistrend and became more accustomed to the feel and restrictions of her armor.

Later that evening, after being forced to change into more formal clothing by Arwen, Zamira sat at the dining table in the main hall as the representatives of the races dined together to socialize. Many of the guests kept eyeing her, the men probably because of their hormones, the elves for they found her a curious being one who did not belong there and the dwarves who were keen on finding out how much ale the woman could drink before becoming intoxicated.

"Oi, Lass ye ought to take your liquor a bit slower, you'll be lyin' on the floor you keep drinkin' it like that." The red haired dwarf said from next to the Death Knight.

"I am perfectly fine, dwarf. I could drink five tankards of ale before it had any effect on me." She said as she knocked back another pint of the elven ale and then ate a little of her food.

"Five tankards?! But that's enough to even knock a troll to the ground. How can a wee little lassie like you drink so much?" The black haired dwarf asked incredulously.

"Because I am not like you." Zamira said not wanting to have to openly state to the whole table that she was dead or rather undead. But apparently this was not to be.

"How is that so lassie?" The white haired dwarf asked in a cracking voice that was like the crumbling of rocks. Sighing Zamira was ready for the outbursts as she told the dwarves of herself.

"Because I am dead. Now if you would excuse me I shall retire for the evening." She said as a collective gasp echoed through the table minus of course the people who already knew. Standing up she met Lord Elrond's gaze and silently asked for his permission to leave the main hall. He nodded subtly and Zamira hurried out of the building and into the night air but then she heard the whistling of steel through the air and heavy footsteps behind her.

"Lord Boromir! No!" Zamira heard from behind her. Suddenly a burning pain ripped through her mid section and she saw a blood covered sword emerging from her stomach.

"No dead corpse of a woman deserves to dress like a man and act like one as well." She heard a rough male voice say from behind her as his warm breath floated across the pale skin of her neck. Zamira closed her eyes and hung her head and rocked it from side to side as she began to chuckle. She felt the sword go slack and she leapt forward taking the blade with her as the hilt was ripped from his hand. The undead woman turned and gazed upon the reddish-brown haired man that had arrived earlier.

"Foolish man, you think a mere blade could kill me?" Zamira asked and she reached a hand around her and grasped the grip of the sword with one of her hands and yanked it quickly from her body. She cast the sword to the ground and then grinned sadistically at the frightened human male. She ran one of her hands over the open wound and felt the cool liquid coat her hand. Then she brought her hand to her face and let her lips part and her nose intake the lovely scent of her own blood. Her pink tongue appeared from behind her gray lips and licked a good portion of her blood from her hand and swallowed it. Then she turned back to the man who was clearly as frightened as a child and she began to laugh even louder.

"You have no idea what you just unleashed upon yourself." She said as she lunged fast than the man could react and drew back one of her fists and sent it straight into his face. She felt his nose crunch under the force and blood spurted from beneath her hand. Zamira turned on her left foot and sent a ferocious kick into the man's side and watched in pleasure as he flew to the left a good ten feet before crashing to the ground.

"That is enough!" Lord Elrond yelled as the fellow humans helped their fallen lord from the cobbled ground. Zamira snorted in disgust at the weak human and proceeded to lick the remaining blood off her hand. Many of the elves watched her warily as she predatorily stood their cleaning her hand of the blood and then walking off into a dark walkway.

Zamira returned to her room and from her satchel she grabbed a healing potion and quickly gulped it down and grimaced at the burning sensation that flooded through her body. Then she grabbed her baldric containing Mistrend and then jogged to the training ground once again. There she sat for some time just meditating and trying to calm down her bloodlust. Then she stretched out her muscles and then began going through her combat moves with her fists and her vampiric Runeblade.

Nearing the depths of night Zamira heard faint footsteps and she waited as she sensed the magical aura of the wizard. Sure enough out of the woods the gray robed Gandalf emerged.

"That was quite a spectacle you put on back there Zamira." He said as he neared her now perfectly still form that clenched the massive glowing sword in both her hands.

"It was what he deserved for insulting me so and then shoving his blade through my body." She said quietly but harshly for she still felt a burning rage towards the human lord that called Boromir.

"Sure enough I do believe you could have solved that in not such a violent manner but no matter I came to check upon your wound. Is it okay?" He asked as his blue, sparkling eyes set upon the rip in the fabric of her shirt. But beneath the ragged fabric he saw no bloody gaping hole but perfectly fine, deathly pale skin.

"The wound is healed. I returned to my room and drank a healing potion." Zamira said as she began to swing Mistrend again at her imaginary enemies.

"Very well, just make sure you get some rest. Lord Elrond still expects you to be present for the Council tomorrow morning." Gandalf said as he retreated into the woods and toward the main buildings of Rivendell.

Sighing heavily after the wizard left the undead female sheathed her vampiric Runeblade and then sat down heavily on a nearby bench. After leaning the blade against the bench Zamira lay down and gazed up into the black night sky that sparkled with tiny white stars and to the right of her they pale crescent moon glimmered. Feeling all her rage and bloodlust fade steadily the Death Knight let the calm lull her to sleep, right there on a wooden bench on the Rivendell training grounds.


	5. Chapter 5

**Dedications go out to three people: Sharnorasian Empire (naturally), xXMadCatXx and CJNyfalt. Also to the last one thank you for the criticism and I will make sure to take all the helpful stuff you told me into consideration as I continue to write this fanfiction and I tried to fix up the elves outlook towards Zamira, though honestly she and Elrond kind of have this trusting bond right now and I don't really know how to go about deteriorating that a bit to make it more…un-trustworthy.**

**Also just for the reader's benefit the plotline for this story will only include content from World of Warcraft: Wrath of the Lich King and behind… there will be no references to the upcoming release of World of Warcraft: Cataclysm (CAN'T WAIT!). And this fanfiction will last through Fellowship of the Ring, the Two Towers and Return of the King and possibly longer depending on the ending. And yes that is the truth there will be more than one ending to this story (aka two or more chapters depending on which ending you choose you want the story to end). I may not have everything planned out but I know that much…**

**Also, a little guide of sorts: Bold will be for the Black Speech and anything else said by the bad guys in foreign tongues. And italics will be for elvish and after every different line that is in a different language in parenthesis there will be a translation.**

**P.S. I am attempting to try and update weekly... sometimes I may be earlier; sometime I may be a few days late but one chapter a week is what I'm aiming for.**

**Disclaimer: I am not J.R.R. Tolkien or Blizzard Entertainment and all things that relate to their creations belong to them. **

**Claimer: However I do own Zamira Snowfang, Oblivion, Mistrend and all other OCs that may or may not be introduced later on along the plotline.**

**But anywho… here is Chapter Five of Eternal Undeath! ENJOY!**

**(P.S.S: This is a re-post because thanks to CJNyfalt I realized that I had put something unnecessary in this chapter.)**

**To add even more to my little essay of ridiculousness I would like to recommend all you silly people who are reading this fanfiction to go over and check Sharnorasian Empire's story ****Shadowfire: The Metallics.**

Bright, blinding gold light glared through the scattered canopy and shone upon the eyelids of the sleeping Death Knight. A faint breeze grazed her deathly pale cheeks and her face muscles twitched slightly. Down the cobbled path a faint humming could be heard but the humming got louder and louder steadily. Then the slapping of hardened leather on cobbled pathways was audible as well. Out from the behind a great oak tree stepped the gray robed wizard, Gandalf the Gray.

His sparkling blue eyes lighted upon the sleeping woman and the corner of his lips twitched upwards seeing the hardened warrior so at peace. He paced forward and then hesitantly tapped her on the shoulder.

Glowing cobalt colored eyes snapped open and Zamira instinctively reached for Mistrend which lay at her side.

"Be at ease Zamira, I just came to rouse you from your slumber the Council is going to begin shortly and Lord Elrond sent me to fetch you." He said in the gruff and wise voice that was his own.

"Ah I see. You have my thanks Wizard." Zamira said as she slowly sat up from the wooden bench. Then setting her still, boot-clad feet upon the cobbles and stood up and twisted her back and sighed as her spine cracked and she felt the temporary stiffness fade away. Buckling on the leather baldric with Mistrend onto her back she followed the Wizard back towards the graceful buildings of Rivendell.

"We still have some time, would you like to return to your room and possibly change your clothing or cleanse yourself?" Gandalf asked as they emerged into the main courtyard.

"Yes, that sounds reasonable enough." Her chilly voice said and Gandalf unconsciously flinched from the clanging sound that emanated from the voice that sounded like the frigid winds of winter and the sharp clanging of metals.

Then with that both the Wizard and the Death Knight headed back towards the medical ward, where Zamira had been staying in her room. Which just so happened to be pretty much in the medical ward due to it being the first room Zamira had been brought to when she arrived unconscious on the back of a horse. As they came to the heavy and unadorned wooden door of her room Gandalf stopped and sat on a nearby bench that the hallway seemed to have every fifteen or so feet.

Entering her room Zamira saw a much larger stack of clothing and she once again felt that the hawkish seamstresses had come into her room and left them there. Lying on the top of the pair was a luxurious pair of midnight blue leggings that looked to be made of some sort of velvety-silk material with an stretchable waistline. Underneath that was a dark gray pair of sturdy but soft woolen leggings that seemed to be made for hiking and long distance travel. Under the pants were two equally nice tunics and what seemed to be a complete outfit. There were three tunics; one was a dusky purple, one was a midnight blue and the last was a silvery color that seemed to glitter in the rising sun's light.

Picking up the dark blue leggings and dusky purple tunic, Zamira laid them upon her clean and untouched bed and then unlaced her boots and unbuckled her leather belt. Then she stripped from the more formal grayish blue tunic with black embroidery and black leggings. After changing her underwear and chest binding she slid into the new clothes. They fit rather well and Zamira for once didn't have to change the length and sleeves since it was much better than the first shirt she had received. The sleeves of the purple tunic were perfect and only flared out at her wrists slightly. The hem only went to her lower thighs and the slits went to her hips allowing all ranged of motion. Buckling her black leather belt over the tunic and then re-lacing her boots onto her feet. She reached over to the wall and received Mistrend from where it reclined. Buckling the baldric onto her back, securing the straps and buckles over her right shoulder and around her waist.

Then at the mirror she picked up a primitive hairbrush and worked out the waves and curls of her ink black locks, which had become snarled in the night, while lying on a wooden bench. After satisfied with the present-ability of her hair she took a flexible strap of leather and quickly bound the midnight strand behind her head in a low ponytail. Content with her apparel Zamira exited her room and joined Gandalf who stood from his relaxed pose on the bench and then they hastened to an open courtyard of sorts where many beings sat on dark wooden chairs, except Lord Elrond who sat regally on a throne of light brown wood carved into the likeness of weaving vines.

Gandalf rushed the last remaining open seat and Zamira glanced at Lord Elrond who had a frown upon his face while meeting her glowing blue eyes. He shook his head and gestured to two armed elven warriors that stood behind him. They walked forward and held out lengths of thick rope in their pale but strong looking hands.

"Death Knight Snowfang, due to your actions last night our human guests have requested that if you were to be here at this Council for you to be bound and forced to stand." Lord Elrond said in a harsh tone that seemed to just be a façade to please the disgruntled humans who sat slouched in their chairs.

"Very well." She said as the elves briskly walked forward and unbuckled her baldric and set the massive two-handed sword on the ground. But unfortunately the one handling the sword let one of his pale fingers lightly graze the grip of the sword. His body froze, his eyes shut tightly and his shoulders hunched as it seemed many sacks of heavy sand had been dropped suddenly upon him. Zamira bent quickly and pulled the grip away from his hand and used her own will to quiet the Mistrend's evil aura that willed to possess and conquer the young elf. The Vampiric Runeblade quieted down and Zamira set it lightly upon the ground and then peered over at the young elf that had touched the blade.

He seemed to be recovering but he cradled his dark haired head in his hands and was seated upon the ground as well. Zamira straightened and caught the gaze of nearly every being that sat at the council.

"What just happened?" One of the three blonde haired elves demanded. He seemed to be one of the three that had ridden in with the blue eyed elf that had locked eyes with her when he arrived.

"My sword merely tried to possess and conquer the mind of him, but it was not able to be completed so the elf is in no danger." Zamira said bluntly and stood patiently as the remaining elf bound her wrists tightly with the rope and then went to escort his comrade to the medical wing.

Some of the beings raised up a minor clamor at the thought of her massive sword having such a consciousness that it would seek to possess and conquer to minds of whoever touched it, except of course it's obvious owner. But they were quickly hushed when Lord Elrond cleared his through and Gandalf the Wizard knocked his wooden staff upon the hard, rock floor.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Every race is bound to this fate, this one doom." Lord Elrond said gravely his voice being nothing but utter seriousness. He glanced to his left at the chair nearest Zamira upon the dark haired Hobbit named Frodo.

"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo." He said as the young Hobbit rose from his chair and slowly passed towards the stone pedestal that stood in the center of the courtyard. There on the flat surface he dropped a plain looking golden ring. Zamira raised a single, thin black eyebrow and once again heard the fiery, seductive whispers of the Dark Lord Sauron, or as it he was called by Lord Elrond and the Wizard.

Many in the crowd began to whisper amongst their fellows but the one that Zamira knew well, the reddish-brown bearded man from the night before which she had beaten senseless. That very man stood from his chair with a vague and distant expression on his finely chiseled face, his blue eyes glazed over.

"So it is true. In a dream… I saw the eastern sky grow dark… but in the West, a pale light lingered. A voice was crying 'Your doom is near at hand. Isildur's Bane is found.'… Isildur's Bane…" The human lord named Boromir said as he slowly floated forward and as if in a trance reached his left hand towards the gold band.

"Boromir!" Lord Elrond yelled trying to rouse him from his stupor but his hand still glided towards the Ring. Gandalf surged into a standing position as the seductive whispers of the Ring in Zamira's ears became a scream and everyone was able to hear the foul voice that emanated from the Ring.

"**Ash nazg durbatuluk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatuluk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul! **(One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them!)" The gray-robed Wizard yelled into the air in the sinister sounding language that stung faintly at Zamira's ears though she never flinched and simply ceased to breathe for it was not necessary. During this evil sounding speech in a dark tongue the sky darkened and thunder rumbled in the sky.

As the evil effects of the language faded away Elrond took his hand away from his temples and glared at the silver bearded Wizard.

"Never before had any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris." Elrond said, his voice clearly scolding Gandalf who seemed to be drained from speaking the language.

"I do not ask for your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor, may it be heard in every corner of the West. The Ring is altogether evil." Gandalf said sending a scathing glare towards the plain gold band on the pedestal that had now become rather silent. The human, Boromir seemed to have recovered from the bout of the Black Speech and was now once again standing in the courtyard.

"It is a gift… a gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people, are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him." He said trying to sway those in the Council to see his plea and side with him. The one human I was more friendlily familiar with stood and the made his own voice heard.

"You cannot wield it. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master." Aragorn said as he took a few small steps forward so that he was now to be focused on.

"What would a Ranger know of this matter?" Boromir asked his voice sneering over the title of calling Aragorn a ranger, like it was an insult or a slur on his dignity. The youthful looking leader of the blonde haired elves stood with his mossy green poncho like shirt swishing with the action.

"This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." He said harshly, admonishing the human lord who slowly turned his focus from the elf back to Aragorn with a new light in his eyes; though that never meant that it was for the better.

"Aragorn. This is Isildur's heir?" Boromir asked himself while he seemed to study the darker haired man standing in front of him. The elf took another step forward.

"And heir to the throne of Gondor." The blonde elf said again with a bold tone.

"_Havo dad, Legolas. (_Sit down, Legolas.)" Aragorn said in a foreign tongue that was soft and melodious like a song. The blonde elf, that apparently was named Legolas, backed up a few steps and took his seat once again. Boromir turned back from the elf again and met Aragorn's silver eyes with his own blue eyes.

"Gondor had no king. Gondor needs no king." He said as he trudged back to his own seat and sat down heavily into a slouching position.

"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it." Gandalf said from his own seat, where he calmly watched everyone.

"You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed." Lord Elrond said finitely with determination. The red bearded dwarf then stood up and pulled his two handed axe into his hands.

"Then what are we waiting for." He said as he charged forward, yelling a battle cry of sorts and swung the axe down mightily upon the gold ring on the pedestal.

The Ring's voice raised for a mere second to shout and the force its power shattered the axe into fragments of steel and sent the dwarf back five feet and landing hard upon his back.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor, and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this." Lord Elrond said as his steel gray eyes swept across every being's face.

"One does not simply walk in Mordor. Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is an evil there that does not sleep. The Great Eye is ever-watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly." Boromir said from his chair with a look of dismay on his bearded face. The blonde elf, Legolas, stood once more a look of anger on his smooth and youthful face.

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond had said? The Ring must be destroyed!" Legolas yelled at Boromir obviously believing that his dull human mind had not processed the severity of what the elven lord had told them. After the elf's outburst the red-haired dwarf Gimli stood up himself, though his short height did not really differ much from him sitting and him standing.

"And I suppose you think you are the one to do it!" Gimli yelled fiercely, obviously challenging the blonde elf. Boromir stood to the challenge and added his own yell.

"And what if we fail? What then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?" He yelled. Gimli stepped menacingly towards Legolas and raised his rounded head upwards to look the elf straight in the face.

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!" He yelled and then Legolas' companions rose to protect their leader. Then all hell broke loose. The dwarves and blonde elves began to bicker amongst themselves except for Legolas who tried to hold back his more temperamental kin. The humans began to argue amongst themselves and all but Lord Elrond, Frodo, Aragorn and Zamira went to engage in the heated arguments. Then suddenly Frodo stood up from his chair.

"I will take it. I will take it!" He yelled and slowly but surely the yelling died away and everyone turned to gaze upon the little dark haired Hobbit.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though, I do not know the way." Frodo said more quietly feeling shy under the gazes of all the attendees of the Council.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." Gandalf said as he exited the crowd and went to stand next to Frodo who smiled up at the Wizard. Aragorn then stood once again from his chair with a determined look on his face.

"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword." Aragorn pledged kneeling down to Frodo's height and then standing upright.

"And you have my bow." Pledged Legolas who stepped forward as well with a faint smile upon his face..

"And my axe." Said Gimli, who also stepped forward and stood begrudgingly next to the blonde elf.

"You carry the fates of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done." Boromir said as he too stepped forward but still remained distanced from the rest of the huddle.

From behind a bush a head of light brown hair attached to a short and plump Hobbit named Samwise Gamgee appeared and rushed to Frodo.

"Frodo's not going anywhere without me." He said bravely while clinging to his best friend's hand tightly. Lord Elrond couldn't help but smile at the dedication the young Hobbit was showing to his friend.

"It is hardly possibly to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not." The elven lord said with a smile. From the other side of the courtyard two more Hobbits jumped out and hurtling towards the Council.

"We're coming too! You'll have to send us homes tied up in a sack to stop us!" The one named Merry yelled as he ran to Frodo with his cousin Pippin.

"Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of… mission. Quest. Thing." Pippin said as he grinned wildly, obviously proud of himself for saying such a thing.

"Well, that rules you out, Pip." His cousin said with a chuckle and a wide grin. They laughed quietly amongst themselves while Lord Elrond seemed to survey the group with his steel colored eyes.

"Nine companions. Wait. No, why not make it even. Death Knight Snowfang, you shall also accompany them." He said as he made eye contact with the now alert woman. Zamira turned to the elven lord and met his gaze.

"As you wish, My Lord." She said nodding her head and slightly bending at the waist in a polite bow.

"No! A woman cannot go on a quest such as this, it will only impede us! Much less this undead corpse of a woman!" Boromir yelled angrily and Zamira turned on him quicker than a carnivore would pounce on a bloody scrap of meat.

"I would hold your tongue, human. I seem to believe that last night I beat you into submission in only thirty seconds and yet you still seem to rank yourself as a very capable warrior. I can fight for hour on end, well fed I could kill an army in two days by myself; I can walk underwater for over an hour. I do not feel fear; I do not feel pain, I was raised from the dead to be a weapon of destruction. And you dare to say that I will impede upon this quest. Do this world a favor; keep your idiocy to yourself." Zamira said glaring at the human male who now quivered like a cornered mouse under the hungry gaze of his feline hunter. She also put to good use her bone-chilling voice and made her subtle threats pierce into his mind like needles into rotting flesh.

"So be it. You shall be Fellowship of the Ring." Lord Elrond said as he surveyed the group of ten extremely different people.

"Great! Where are we going?" Pippin asked out of the blue, which caused all of those who were better in tune with their emotions to chuckle or laugh outright. It even managed to wrestle a smiled from the undead Death Knight who was being unbound by Gandalf. As soon as her wrists were free Zamira bent down and picked Mistrend and her baldric from the dirty ground and dusted them off before re-buckling them onto her person.

"You have a week to prepare for your journey make good use of it." Lord Elrond said before he walked away with a few of the darker haired elves who had been present for the Council. The humans trudged off, except for Aragorn of course who leisurely walked off as a casual pace. Gandalf and all the Hobbits hurried away and they were followed by the dwarves who no doubt were off to the kitchens to get pints of ale to drown away the stress of the Council. The blonde elves were whispering amongst themselves and Zamira was rubbing her wrist absentmindedly before she noticed the piercing gazes of the fairer elves.

Two pairs of green eyes, a pair of golden brown eyes and the startling bright blue eyes watched her carefully as if she were a deadly animal and one false move could mean their own demise. Which in a sense was not too far from the truth, if someone pushed the wrong button on the Death Knight they would find themselves a spirit watching her bathe in their fresh blood as she burned away their bloodless corpse.

Turning her back on the elves, Zamira walked away and went to her room where she packed her satchel with her new clothing and then went to the training grounds. Where she planned to waste away the day going through her attacks and munching upon what was left of her Talbuk Steaks, Aged Dalaran Sharp Cheese and a half empty bottle of Dalaran White Wine.


	6. Chapter 6

**I apologize for the extremely late and update and hope that you can all forgive me from the bottom of your fanfiction-reading hearts but thing have been difficult lately and busy and I have had trouble finding time to work on my fanfictions. (and yes I have quite a few others that are currently in the works of being created and worked upon and if any of my readers have an suggestions for a fanfic that you don't feel capable of writing but would like to see written I would loved for you to private message me! After all summer vacation is upon us and I will have loads of free time very soon.) **

**Dedications go out to: Sharnorasian Empire, CJNyfalt, cyanai and Teddypro for being a great reviewers and giving me helpful criticism to help the fanfic get so much better.**

**Disclaimer: I am not J.R.R. Tolkien or Blizzard Entertainment and all things that relate to their creations belong to them and not me. **

**Claimer: However I do own Zamira Snowfang, Oblivion, Mistrend and all other OCs that may or may not be introduced later on along the plotline.**

**BEWARE! THERE IS QUITE A BIT OF BOROMIR-BASHING IN THIS CHAPTER. Though for as long as Boromir is alive in this fanfiction Zamira is going to hate his guts, and honestly to say the same I hate him too… he's kind of an asshole.**

**By the way I recommend all you people who are reading this fanfiction to go over and check Sharnorasian Empire's story ****Shadowfire: The Metallics** **because she's just amazingly awesome and so is the story! **

The sixth day after the Council dawned calm and sunny. Half the day had already passed and the hustle and bustle of Rivendell was dulled to a slow pace of luxury. The female Death Knight often found herself repeating the same things every day. She would wake up, don some clothing, go to breakfast, return to her room, get Mistrend, go to the training ground until lunch, after lunch returns back to the training ground until dinner, have dinner, train some more and then go to bed.

That same repetition applied to this day as well, for here she found herself sitting on the soft grass next to the training field. Mistrend lay next to her, faintly glowing in the lush green grass while Zamira munched upon a nearly stale piece of bread and a slice of cheese. Zamira looked up when she heard footsteps and coming along the path was a practically beaming wizard. He glanced around the training ground and when his blue eyes met the Death Knight's he briskly headed in her direction.

"Ah, Zamira I am glad I have finally found you. Lord Elrond thought it would be best if you associated with the other members of the Fellowship so that no unpleasantness occurs during the quest." He said looking at her expectantly.

"Since it is an order from Lord Elrond it would be most improper and rude for me to decline, though should I see that cowardly human lord I am sorry to say that unpleasantness will happen anyways." She said as she hauled her stiff body from the ground where she had been sitting for at least an hour and a half. After re-buckling Mistrend's baldric to her back she followed the wizard out of the training ground and back into the city.

The first of the Fellowship that they 'ran into' was Aragorn and at this time he was the only human in the elven city that Zamira held respect for. He had been sitting on a bench leisurely reading with Arwen at his side also reading. Zamira looked them over and they both had calm and content expressions on their faces and she caught out of the corner of her eye their entwined hands. One of her thin black eyebrows rose and she felt the corners of her gray lips twitch upwards.

"Greetings Aragorn. Greetings Arwen." Gandalf said to get their attention for it seemed to be distracted and otherwise held captive by the presence of one another and the novels in their hands. They looked up startled by the two sudden presences that appeared from nowhere.

"Hello Gandalf and Zamira. What brings you here?" Arwen said folding the corner of her book and setting it down on her lap.

"Lord Elrond, your father, has asked me to converse and familiarize myself with the other members of the Fellowship and so far Aragorn, you are the first I have seen." Zamira said as she unbuckled her baldric from her back and lightly set it on the ground next to a chair and then took a seat in that wicker chair that was set across from the bench. In the background Aragorn and Arwen saw the gray clad wizard sneaking off into the building of Rivendell leaving Zamira alone with them.

"That seems like a good idea, though I know for a fact that there will be no peace between you and Boromir." Aragorn said cracking a small grin.

"Indeed there shall not be such a ludicrous thing to exist between me and that coward. Though to stray from the current subject I can't help but notice the obvious signs. Is it safe to say that you are both in love with one another, correct? "Zamira asked bluntly. Honestly she truly knew nothing of subtly when it comes to asking questions related to the hearts of others and their actions while in such a relationship.

They both stared wide eyed like deer caught in the trap of its hunter but then Arwen's face relaxed and across her face a soft smile spread.

"Yes we are a couple." She said in a soft voice while pressing her pale lips to Aragorn's freshly shaven cheeks. He smiled warmly towards her then returned his silvery eyes to Zamira who watched the display of affection with unchanging eyes like she had not even seen it take place.

"That is wonderful; it is good for you two to be together you make a good couple." Zamira said gazing off towards the blue sky in the west. Her gaze was glazed over as if in deep thought. A coughing noise caught her attention and she looked back to see Arwen watching her.

"Have you ever been in love Zamira?" She asked curiosity sparkling in her blue eyes like it would in a small child.

"I do not think so. I am not able to recall most of my former life amongst the living though I do know that Paladins of the Holy Light take an oath of celibacy and are forbidden from taking romantic partners." Zamira said avoiding the other example of intimacy she had shared but Arwen saw through her shield and knew that the undead woman was hiding something.

"Surely you must have had at least a temporary partner during this second life of yours?" She asked pressing for the information that the Death Knight was hiding.

"I am unsure of his true intentions so I cannot reveal it, should it prove to be false." Zamira answered speaking what was true for her. She was confused of Darion's true intentions in their relationship, or whatever it was…

"Arwen quiet with all your questions, leave the woman to her own privacy. I give my sincerest apology Lady Zamira, Arwen she is known to be a fanatic for other women's love lives. But if you don't mind I have a few questions of my own. I have heard from others, mainly the young Hobbits and Gandalf that your world is quite different than ours and I just wanted to know some of the basic things about it. Like the types of creatures, the land, the people and other things like that." Aragorn said and Zamira looked towards his sharply since he had just trailed upon what she would consider thin ice over a pond of hungering Underbog Frenzys.

"I shall answer your questions but I shall not tolerate any questions that would be considered wartime secrets… you are forbidden on asking of anything other than said basics as you called them." Zamira said harshly laying out the law on which she expected the noble looking human to obey.

"Very well I shall heed by your rules. What are the people of your world called? Are there many races of just a few?" He asked, now his silver eyes alight with curiosity like his lover's had been mere seconds ago.

"My own race is the same as your own we are the Humans, and we along with the Dwarves, Gnomes, Night Elves and Draenei make up the noble Alliance. Our enemies the savage Horde are made up of the races of Orcs, Trolls, Undead, Tauren and Blood Elves. Though far beyond our factions there are other neutral races like the cursed Naga, the dying High Elves, the majestic Dragonkin, the evil Demons and then many others." Zamira explained her eyes glowing as she thought of her home on Azeroth, a familiar feeling slowly oozed through her body and she realized that is was homesickness.

"Your world must truly be a dangerous place it is no wonder that nearly all of your people are trained to fight. But what about the land masses, such as continents and their climates?" Arwen asked after Zamira had finished listing the races.

"The Alliances main continent is called the Eastern Kingdoms…. It is usually warm and peaceful with normal seasons. The Horde is stationed in Kalimdor which is a hot barren land except for the Tauren's home area I hear that it is rather lush and green, though not forested. The fel continent of Outland is dry and barren in some areas; other areas boil with lava and one area is a dense forest shrouded in heavy mist. Then there is the frigid Northrend where most every big of land is covered in snow and ice." Zamira said and watched the two intently. Both of them had a far-away look in their eyes like they were trying to imagine it all.

Then from the far side of the courtyard the faint sound of tramping boots was heard and there marching in a group were the three Dwarves. They looked around and when their eyes alighted on Zamira they briskly walked towards her.

"There ya are lassie. That old wizard told us to come an' find ya. We have a few questions for ya, if ya don't mind." The lead dwarf with a red beard said and Zamira vaguely remembered that he was called Gimli. Behind his were his two companions one with a snow white beard and the younger looking one with a black beard and hair.

"If I must, but I suggest we relocate to another place… perhaps the Dining Hall?" Zamira asked begrudgingly not really being all too keen on talking to anyone else or socializing in any way. Normally, the Death Knight was known to be silent unless she was in battle, then it was all yells, shouts, screeches and giving orders to her subordinates.

"That sounds good enough, shall we go then?" The black bearded dwarf said and the three dwarves and undead woman, who had picked up her baldric and Vampiric Runeblade off the ground, turned away from Arwen and Aragorn and headed towards the Dining Hall. After arriving at the elegant hall the three dwarves took seats in the high-backed wooden chairs and beckoned Zamira to join them. After leaning her two-handed sword against the chair Zamira took a seat hesitantly the undead woman looked at her companions and waiting for them to ask their questions.

"First things first you'll be needin' an introduction from us so we don't start off on the wrong foot, eh lassie? We don't want to end up like that stuck up bastard human noble that you beat the tar out of last night. So anyways my name is Gimli son of Glóin." The red bearded dwarf said and then nudged the drowsing white bearded dwarf on his left.

"And I'm his father Glóin son of Gróin, and this here is my nephew's son, Koiran son of Salin." Said Glóin as he lightly hit the black bearded dwarf on the shoulder, while under the young dwarf's beginner's beard one could see a faint tinge of pink as the dwarf blushed under the cold blue gaze of Zamira.

"So last night at the festivities we saw you packing away alcohol like a husky dwarf. Firstly we were just curious where you learned to drink like that?" The red bearded dwarf named Gimli asked, as he leaned forward and watching her pale face with squinty eyes. Zamira debated inside her head on how to answer this question but then decided on what she should say.

"As you know I am not quite… living. Well being one of the undead has its advantages. For one alcohol does not affect us at all. We could drink for the rest of our infinite lives and never be drunk." She said simply and watched carefully as their eyes widened from their perpetual squints.

"Such a wonderful gift but at the same time a dreadful curse. You can never enjoy the pleasures of being carefree as the wondrous liquid numbs your senses and allows you to be free. But at the same time you can enjoy all the meads, beers and brews of the world and never have to worry of over drinking and making a fool of yourself within the public eye." Glóin said in a creaky voice that sounded the like crunch of gravel under one's booted foot.

"Quite so, though even when I was amongst the living I was never fond of alcohol though I find in my current state of undeath it is a welcome relief to avoid drunkenness." Zamira said and let the corner of her pale grayish colored lips twitch upwards as the dwarves roared with laughter. They reminded her so much of the dwarves of Azeroth that it almost hurt to watch them laugh.

"Well then lassie I think it would be a good time for our second question. Your weapon it is simply magnificent but as a dwarf I can't help but wonder… what kind of metal is it made of? Why does it glow? I have never known any blade to look so evil and destructive or to glow and give off such a blue aura of death." Gimli asked as he stared over her shoulder to where Mistrend was leaning up against the chair.

"My Runeblade, Mistrend is made of mainly a combination of metals, I can't say the exact amounts since I did not forge it myself it was given to me at my rebirth by the Lich King who was the one to make me rise again from the dead. But I have discerned that it is forged of Titansteel and Cobalt. The blade is mainly Titansteel but the runes carved into its surface are lined and reinforced by Cobalt. It glows because that is the physical form of the stored life energies of those we together have slain and injured." Zamira said as she unsheathed the blade and laid it delicately on the table in front of the dwarves. The youngest one, Koiran reached forward to touch the blade but the Death Knight caught his reaching hand and held it in a steadfast grip that could easy shatter every bone in his wrist.

"I would not do that if I were you. Mistrend cannot be held by anyone except for me. That very life force pulsing within it gives the sword a mind of its own and it can and will take over your body and mind. Remember the foolish elf that touched it during the Council?" Zamira said and then released the young dwarf's hand from her grip. She glanced and already saw his wrist bruising slightly from her grip and she felt sorry for injuring the dwarf but she had none of her items on her, not even her armor. She had left everything but Mistrend back in her room.

"Quite a dangerous sword, you have there lassie, but our curiosity is sated you may continue onto speaking with the other members of this Fellowship." Gimli said and then he and his companions stood up and tramped away to wherever their feet led them.

Zamira still sitting was surprised at the shortness of their conversation but was overall pleased with it. Out of all the members of the Fellowship she had a feeling that she and Gimli would get along the best, though her status with Aragorn and Gandalf was relatively close. Closing her eyes momentarily, Zamira ran through the people within the Fellowship and checked off those she had spoken with. Aragorn and Gimli were done and Zamira did not feel the need to socialize with the Hobbits for they were already quite well acquainted already. That left the blonde elf and the foolish, cowardly and idiotic human noble. Opening her eyes the female Death Knight stood up and re-buckled her baldric onto her cloth and leather covered back and then slid Mistrend into its partial sheath. Exiting from the Dining Hall she made her way in a random direction, though she was heading in the direction of the Training Grounds without even knowing it.

While walking down a sunlit pathway that followed around the back of a enclosed garden much like the massive moonwell hidden in the Temple of the Moon in their beautiful capital city of Darnassus on the tree/island of Teldrassil. Out from around a corner to her dismay and annoyance a troop of three humans appeared and at their head was the coppery-haired Lord Boromir. Behind him his more observant followers stopped suddenly after seeing the blue glowing glare that Zamira was giving their leader. Turning his head Boromir met her gaze and shrank back slightly. Zamira then closed her eyes briefly and became set on ignoring the idiot human and walking right by them with no interruptions. As she walked by the men she heard hushed whispers and heard the rough voice of Boromir whispering…

"Looky boys, it's the undead whore. I wonder what magic she'll do for us today." He had said and Zamira felt the loose hold she had on her anger pop free and within seconds she had spun and had Mistrend's perfectly sharp edge millimeters away from Boromir's skin.

"What did you say? I had warned you before that it would be wise of you to keep your filthy tongue behind your teeth and not speak to me again." Zamira angrily hissed out, watching as the misty blue aura of her Runeblade flowed up from the blade and caressed the side of the human's face. Her glowing blue eyes narrowed and seemed to glow even more. Sensing the danger their leader was in his companions drew their own swords and pointed them at her. To Zamira their blades were as good as wooden sticks against her.

"Drop your swords if you want to live." She hissed out and glared at each man in turn and watched as her cold gaze frightened them beyond belief and their swords dropped to the cobbled ground with a clang.

"Don't you go threatening my men wench; you should realize your place and bow before one as noble as myself. Better yet you should even come to your senses and give up trying act like a man. A sword such as this does not belong in the dirty hands of a woman!" Boromir shouted harshly and reached up with his left hand and to grab the blade of Mistrend. Zamira grinned manically at his stupidity and let his skin touch the cold, metal blade. His body convulsed automatically and he began to whimper like a kicked dog and his eyes rolled back into his skull and a small trickle of blood rolled from his nostrils and from the corners of his mouth. Zamira let out a dark chuckle but stopped sudden when she heard quick, feather-light footsteps coming their way she yanked her sword away from Boromir's grasp.

From around the corner the four blonde elves she had been searching for along came running around the corner. They searched the scene with sharp eyes and took in the sight of the crumpled human noble on the ground and his two companions who were frozen in shock. Then their leader the young, blue eyed elf slid his eyes to Zamira who stood lightly and gazed uncaringly at Boromir's limp body.

"Is he dead?" One of the blonde elf's companions, who like all the others was also blonde, asked her.

"No. He is simple unconscious, though for the things he has said I should have killed him." She said simply but then her gaze left the body and switched to the elves that stood a few feet away. She watched as one of the elves walked up to the standing humans and woke them from their stupor and then helped them pick up their fallen lord. Then when they were all set he returned to his leader and companions.

"Mithrandir, or as you may know him as Gandalf, sent us to talk with you since he thought you would have difficulty finding us on your own. Come; let us go somewhere else more comfortable like the gardens? Or would you prefer somewhere else?" Their leader asked politely in kindly tone of voice.

"The gardens are fine." Zamira said as she put Mistrend back on her back and followed the light footed elves away. Their walking style reminded her so much of the Blood Elves though their apparent connection with nature seemed to be more connected to the Night Elves. After reaching one of the outdoor gardens the elves sat gracefully on the lush grass. Zamira followed but had to once again unbuckle her baldric and set it on the ground beside her and then sat cross-legged between two of the blonde elves forming a small circle of sorts.

"How about we introduce ourselves to make things easier? My name is Legolas." The leading elf said who at the same time seemed to be the one of the youngest out of the four. His bright blue eyes clearly sparkled with youth but at the same time held the experience of one who had seen much sadness and hardship.

"My name is Colfindir." Said the blonde elf that was on Legolas' right. This elf had emerald green eyes and light tan instead of the paler skin that the other three possessed.

"My name is Lalvion." Said the blonde elf that was on Legolas' right, who was sitting to the left of Zamira. This elf seemed to be the oldest, because his voice was deeper and his face had a few scars and even a slight wrinkle in the corners of his hazel colored eyes, whereas the other elves still had perfectly flawless faces, unmarred by any wrinkles, blemishes or scars. Even Zamira's face had scars but her pale complexion hid most of them from view and they only really showed up in moonlight when their silvery skin shined while her unmarked skin did not.

"My name is Edendir." Said the last elf that was on Zamira's right, but sitting to the left of Colfindir. This elf had to be the youngest for a youthful grin spread across his face as he introduced himself and turned to face her directly showing his oceanic blue eyes. Nodding at each Zamira took her turn and introduced herself simply.

"My name is Zamira Snowfang." She said making eye contact with all the elves.

"Your name is quite beautiful and unique, very fitting for one such as you." Colfindir said with a brave grin and Zamira automatically knew that this elf was of the flirtatious type.

"Thank you." She said simply and ignored the elf's attempt at flirting.

"We just have some simple questions and I would assume that you have some for us too since you keep glancing at us and studying our appearances?" Legolas asked and she nodded and once again glanced at their short, pointed ears and wondered how they had gotten them to be so short. Then Lalvion spoke up and asked his first question.

"My question is why your eyes glow blue and seem to produce a blue mist-like substance, similar to what is floating from the strange runes on your sword?" He asked.

"My eyes glow blue because of the undead energy coursing through my body that was used to revive me from the dead or near-dead. The mist is just the excess energy escaping my body but when it leaves my body it is completely harmless just like a cold mist." Zamira said and then turned to Edendir who had tapped her on the shoulder.

"Why is your skin cold? When I just tapped you on the shoulder through the fabric of your tunic I felt as if I was touching snow or the surface of a frozen pond." He asked innocently.

"I am cold because I am dead, simple as that. Though if I were to stay under the sun for hours my body would heat up but naturally my body temperature is quite cold." She answered and looked around at the other elves. Seeing that none of the others seemed to have any questions Zamira decided to ask hers.

"Why do you elves have short ears?" She asked feeling rather stupid when they all smiled and Edendir laughed a little bit.

"Our race has always had short ears. Why? Does your world have long eared elves?" Legolas asked with a noticeable edge of curiosity in his tone of voice.

"Yes. My world has no short eared elves; all races of elves have long ears. It does not matter whether they are the Blood Elves, Night Elves or even the rare High Elves. Even the Dragons when they take a humanoid form, mainly which are High Elves, have long ears." Zamira answered evenly and the elves in front of her stared incredulously.

"Your world still has dragons? All of those foul beasts are dead in this land." Colfindir said with disgust lining his voice and Zamira felt a mild rage well up in her.

"It is a good thing you are not in my world. You would be slain for saying such disrespectful things. The great Dragon Aspects are one of the greatest powers of my world. Alexstraza the Life-Binder, Leader of the Red Dragonflight, would strike you down herself." Zamira said harshly for she had a healthy amount of respect for the dragons of Azeroth, except of course the traitorous Neltharion.

The elves were surprised by her angry response and Legolas jumped into the conversation quickly to try and resolve anything that had gone wrong.

"Of course, Lady Zamira; Colfindir meant no offense we were merely speaking of our own dragons not your worlds." He said trying to keep the peace.

"I apologize as well. It was rude of me to say such things. Of course your dragons and my own could be very different." She said the back of her throat stinging with the apology. Zamira was not known for being someone who regrets what she says, and almost never does she take anything back or apologize for it. So this whole interaction was new to her and to tell the truth she was not pleased that she was getting so soft and more like those of the living.

"Apology accepted well it seems as though we are done here. You may go and do what you wish." Legolas said as he and his companions stood up and walked briskly away deeper into the garden.

Picking up her sword she strapped it back on for what seemed to be the thousandth time and walked slowly back to the Training Grounds where she planned to sit and meditate for a while then work on her swordsmanship once again to keep her reflexes and skill sharp and in tune. While walking she saw two new figures heading her way. Two of the same height and body shape, with matching heads of silken ink black hair tied back partially with braids. Their silvery, gray eyes locked onto hers and she immediately recognized them as the twin elves that had captured her in the forest.

"Ah Lady Zamira Snowfang, just the undead lady we were looking for. I am Elladan and this is my twin brother Elrohir. We were sent to find you by our father, Lord Elrond. We wish to convey our sincerest apologies for our brutality in the forest but you must understand we were simply guarding our home." The one on the right now revealed to be named Elladan.

"It is fine; if I were in your shoes I would have done the same thing." Zamira said as she began to walk again and head towards the Training Grounds.

"But hold on for a second we wish another thing as well. We have witnessed a fraction of your fighting skills and wish to see them fully so if you would indulge us we would like to challenge you to a friendly spar." The other twin spoke who she assumed was Elrohir. Thinking quickly Zamira smiled and thought of the practice she would get out of fighting the elven twins.

"Very well, I accept your challenge, but wish to make a suggestion to make it more fun for us all. I request that it be two on one and that both of you wear full armor." Zamira said and let her lips twitch upwards as the twins broke into two identical grins of joy.

"You've got a deal then My Lady. Meet us in twenty minutes in the Training Grounds." They said in unison and then dashed off to somewhere else within the city. Also rushing off Zamira returned to her room and clad herself in her armor, though she once again left off her helmet feeling no need for it. Now dressed in her armor Zamira had to grin at what the twins were about to fight. Zamira planned to go out full strength or at least her current full strength. Without her Runic Power she was at a disadvantage but she was still a master of the sword and had the undead energy to boost her strength, stamina, endurance and pain tolerance to nearly impossible levels. Leaving her room and striding confidently to the Training Ground. Along the way Zamira caught the frightened stares of the passing elves. She compared them to little mice seeing a hungry cat coming their way.

Arriving at the grounds Zamira was surprised to see quite a crowd. Practicing in the field Legolas and Colfindir were in a flurried dance of knives as they fought back and forth. Aragorn, Arwen and Gandalf were sitting on a bench together talking about something in hushed tones. In a far corner Gimli seemed to educating Koiran in the use of a double-sided axe. Then to her great dislike in a corner striking at a stuffed dummy of sorts with a broadsword was the moron Lord Boromir. They all seemed to stop what they were doing and watch her with wide eyes. It seemed to be that none of them other than Gandalf (who was smiling brightly for some reason) had ever seen her encased in her frightening armor. The walking out from behind the weapons shed Elladan and Elrohir appeared. They were encased in silvery armor that seemed to only cover their vital parts such as their chest and back, lower arms and lower legs.

"Ready to spar Lady Zamira?" Elladan asked and Zamira nodded stiffly and took a fighting position unsheathing Mistrend from her baldric. The blade sung as she swung it down through the air and then she clamped her two hands firmly on the handle and waited for the elves. The watching crowd hurried to the sidelines where the benches were and sat where they could except for Boromir who was leaning against the shed with a sour expression on his face.

The twins unsheathed their thin and curved swords at the same time and took a crouched position and then went completely still. The three fighters watched each other, though it was more Zamira watching the twins and the twins watching her; all waiting for someone to make the first move. Elrohir decided to be impatient and dashed forward to make the first strike. Zamira lunged forward and glanced his sword off the edge of her own and spun by him faster than anyone except for an elf's eyes could see. She swung out a metal clad foot and sent the elf flying into the ground with a thud. From behind her she could hear the fleet footsteps of Elladan and spun deflecting his blade off her right gauntlet. She swung Mistrend downwards and Elladan leapt back about six feet out of the path of the massive sword.

Zamira ducked close to the ground as Elrohir's blade swished through the air right where her neck had just been. Swinging around Zamira let Mistrend swing out with one arm and while spinning came around quickly with a hard kick to the side. Up from behind she felt a sharp blade against her neck and looked around to see Elladan grinning holding his blade there. Zamira let a sadistic chuckle out and ducking quickly to the ground she went under his guard and reached a plated open hand towards the elf's chest and slammed his body forcefully into the ground. Standing Zamira brought her sword up and blocked the attack from Elrohir. She jumped backwards and stationed herself solidly on the ground about fifteen feet away.

Elrohir helped his brother up from the ground and together they faced her, their faces were no longer bright and smiling but straight and serious. Readying their swords once again they charged and swung simultaneously. Zamira readied herself and launched into action. Moving faster than someone in as much armor as she was in and weaving Mistrend through the air like it was a feather. Blocking all of their attacks Zamira found no lee way for her to attack in but once she saw an opening she took it. Lunging forward she knocked the slim blade out of Elrohir's hands she held her blade up to his neck but then when Elladan made his attack she carefully let the her armored arm twist around the blade as it stabbed towards her. Then as Elladan reached the fullest extent of his thrust she flicked her wrist and bent her elbow and the sword came right out of his hands since he was off balance.

Just like that the fight ended and their lack of energy caught up on them and all three hunched over slightly and let their breath out heavily and took in oxygen to replenish their depleted supply. From the sidelines applause erupted and as they glanced sideways they saw everyone clapping, everyone that was except for Boromir who was still making a disgusted face and glaring in the general direction of Zamira.

"That was most certainly a very good fight and a noble victory for Lady Snowfang." A voice said as Lord Elrond emerged from behind a tree where he had been watching the whole entire time.

"That you Lord Elrond, but your sons also fought well." Zamira said acknowledging the elder elven lord.

"That they did." He agreed and then with his hand he beckoned for Zamira to accompany him but also for Gandalf the Wizard as well. The three left the Training Grounds and headed away to a more secluded area that seemed to be a wilder garden or the beginnings of the forest. Off in the distance Zamira could see waterfalls and before them appearing through the trees was a sunlit lake. Lord Elrond stopped and turned to the undead woman and looked her in the eyes.

"Today I received another letter from my Mother-in-law in the Lady Galadriel. This time along with the letter came a small parcel. Oddly enough both items were addressed to you so I thought I would take it upon myself to see them given to you." Lord Elrond said as he handed a small wrapped package and a letter to Zamira and then went to stand next to Gandalf.

Unrolling the letter first Zamira read the elegant script and found it written in the simple letters of common, from her world. It must be the same in both their worlds. This world's common and her own world's common must be identical because everything in the letter was flawless.

_Dear Lady-Commander Zamira Snowfang of the Knights of the Ebon Blade,_

_ Yes, I know your full title, but do not be afraid or suspicious for I heard it spoken in my mirror. I guess you would classify me as a mage of sorts, just like how you categorize Mithrandir. You have come to this world to serve a large and important purpose. You think being brought here was a mistake or an attempt on your life. But it was not, that which sent you here did indeed plan to kill you and toss you on some abandoned world but our deities the Valar plucked you from that path and brought you here. I apologize I have strayed off topic._

_ You are lost her without your true powers and you dearly wish to reclaim them. Here in this parcel is the enchanted water of the sacred stream that fills my mirror to allow many to perceive their futures, pasts and presents. I have given this water the power to temporarily give you back a fraction of your powers that should last until you and I meet face to face. But here in my domain you shall be put through a challenge to reclaim your full powers._

_ With the blessings of the Valar,_

_ Lady Galadriel_

Zamira stared at the letter and then at the package. She couldn't believe it, this elven witch or whatever she is had enchanted some measly water to bring back her powers. Dropping the parchment to the ground she ripped open the sturdy paper that was wrapped around the parcel and revealed a fine crystal phial with clear liquid in it. Gazing into the water Zamira pulled the cork out and quickly chugged down the water.

Like a rushing river, or getting run over by stampeding mammoths Zamira felt a flood of power course through her veins. Though even with the power she did not feel right, not complete. But then again the elf witch had said it would only return a fraction of her powers. Feeling enlivened Zamira unsheathed Mistrend who had felt its master's power surge and was now glowing as brightly as it could with the fraction of power it had received.

Stalking over to the lake's edge and held Mistrend pointing down into the calm water. Grinning widely Zamira readied her spell.

"Path of Frost." She said and watched gleefully as she walked over the water thick ice formed under her booted feet and allowed her to walk on the water. As she was about thirty feet out onto the lake she turned around and looked back at Lord Elrond and Gandalf. They were looking not at her but at the trail of ice that led from the shoreline to where she was standing.

"Is that the extent of your powers?" Gandalf asked curiously raising a bushy gray eyebrow at Zamira who frowned at the wizard. Raising her plated hands she pointed directly at the wizard and grinned evilly.

"Chains of Ice." She said and then suddenly ripping up from the ground out of nowhere chains wrapped around Gandalf's wrists, ankles and waist and then chilling ice crept up the chains and froze all of his body solid except for his head.

"Zamira release him!" Lord Elrond yelled and Zamira suddenly felt bad for attacking the wizards and cancelled the spell and then walked back to the now pale blue and shivering old man. Taking from her trinket pouch she withdrew one Living Ice Crystal and pressed it lightly to Gandalf's forehead. With a faint blue glow the bluish tinge to the wizard's skin and the incessant shivering stopped and he seemed perfectly fine again.

"Please do not question my powers again." Zamira said restraining herself from saying the apology that wanted to come out. Briskly following the path they had taken before Zamira walked back to her room and changed back into normal clothes and replaced her armor into her enchanted, black, leather satchel. Zamira then picked up the hairbrush that Arwen had given her and brushed out her now loose ink black locks and then once again pulled them back into a ponytail. Then preparing to leave for dinner Zamira debated whether or not to take Mistrend with her. But eventually she came to the conclusion that with her powers back she did not need its protection so she carefully hid it under her bed for safety reasons.

Arriving at dinner she sat in between Koiran the dwarf and Merry the Hobbit at the dinner table and ate her food in relative silence only talking when she was spoken to, which wasn't all too often.

"Lady Zamira your mead is frozen solid!" Merry exclaimed as Zamira once again shook herself from another daydream of sorts about Azeroth, and sure enough her mead was frozen entirely and she had a hard time prying her fingers from the goblet. As she pulled away Zamira could see the Frost Runic Power seeping out of her fingers.

"Not to worry Merry, I just lost control of my newly re-acquired powers." Zamira said as she stood up and nodded to Lord Elrond silently telling him that she was excusing herself from dinner. As she walked towards the door she stopped when she heard someone clear their throat loudly.

"Lady Zamira, be ready for the morning we leave three hours after sunrise." Aragorn said and she simply nodded and continued on out of the Dining Hall and back towards her room.

Upon reaching the safety and comfort of her abode Zamira changed from her tunic and breeches to a loose white undershirt and a pair of baggy dark gray pants which she had taken to wearing for sleepwear. Pulling Mistrend out from under the bed the undead woman leaned it against the wall right near her bed and then climbed into the sheets and blankets and sprawled out on her back. After staring at the ceiling for a time Zamira final let her eyelids drop and slowly but surely she dozed off to the quiet darkness of sleep. Or so she thought…

Translations of Names:

Just to help the reader out in case they were curious as to what the three elvish names meant:

Colfindir: this name means Gold Haired Man (quite ironic eh?)

Lalvion: this name means Son of Elm

Edendir: this name means New Man (which is why I chose him to be the youngest out of the group, even younger than his prince-ly-ness Legolas)

For these names I used the website .net/ which is quite accurate and very, very sophisticated.


	7. Chapter 7

**Dedications go out to: Sharnorasian Empire, CJNyfalt, korrd and Ravenvanguard for reviewing on Chapter Six.**

**Disclaimer: I am not J.R.R. Tolkien or Blizzard Entertainment and all things that relate to their creations belong to them and not me. **

**Claimer: However I do own Zamira Snowfang, Oblivion, Mistrend and all other OCs that may or may not be introduced later on along the plotline.**

**I recommend all you people who are reading this fanfiction to go over and check Sharnorasian Empire's story ****Shadowfire: The Metallics****.**

**Also as a little guide/hint to my readers:**

"Regular text such as this right here means its normal English/common/whatever the normal language of the people of Middle-Earth is."

"_Italic text such as this will always mean elvish."_

**And there ya go… enjoy reading Chapter 7!**

The day of their departure was started with a dull morning, pertaining to the low hanging clouds that encased the water-front elven city. Though as the day seemed to continue the clouds rose higher and higher and a bright sun was revealed. Everywhere within the city it was all hustle and bustle. The humans that accompanied Lord Boromir were leaving back for Gondor; the elves that came with Legolas were also preparing for their departure to Mirkwood, their homeland. Even the two dwarves Gloin, the father of Gimli and Koiran, the son of Salin, were preparing to leave during the morning hours. Within their rooms the ten members of the Fellowship were also finishing their preparations.

Zamira had woken and immediately checked over her satchel and the other leather pack that Arwen had given her for more things. All of her armor was in pristine condition since she had visited the forge first thing that morning. Also Mistrend had been sharpened as much as possible and could with the slightest pressure against skin slice deep into any sort of flesh. Not even to mention the mountains of food that was now stored in her enchanted satchel, it could feed thirty burly men for a good while with four hearty meals a day and snacks in between meals.

The all had a final breakfast together at which once again Zamira was daydreaming and had frozen her beverage solid. But everyone seemed to be in good spirits except for Boromir who was frowning but for once being polite and respectful. But time was known to fly faster than most could predict and before long the companions of the other members of the Fellowship had left.

Zamira had returned to her room to gather her packs and such items since she had went to the breakfast without any of her supplies, and simply clad in a pair of black leggings, a dark purple tunic and a pair of brown leather boots that Arwen had given her a few days prior. In the room she changed from the simple non-traveling clothes into an outfit that the seamstresses had put together. It consisted of a padded pair of charcoal gray breeches, a midnight blue tunic and a leather vest that laced together on the front to hold everything together. It was quite nice actually and the undead woman applauded the seamstresses' skill with needle and cloth.

After dressing the Death Knight pulled her thick plated belt from her satchel and attached it around her waist and then clipped the satchel to it. Then from its resting place leaned against a wall she picked up and secured her baldric to her back and fastened all the buckles. Then picking us her cherished Runeblade from its own place within the blankets, sheets and pillows of her bed she sheathed it. Glancing to the mirror Zamira saw that instead of looking like her normal self she seemed to look tamer… more calm and alive-ish. It was confusing to her but it was not pertinent at the current time.

Convinced that she had everything she needed the female Death Knight left her room closing the door for what may be the last time and walked towards the main gates where they were told to meet up. Upon arriving at the scene she saw a flock of elves wandering around and standing near the gate were all four Hobbits, Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli and the gray-robed wizard Gandalf. Off to the side along with his sons and daughter, Lord Elrond looked her way and nodded in acknowledgment of her presence. Soon after Zamira took her place standing amongst the Fellowship members the elvish Lord cleared his throat and all the wandering elves froze and became silent.

"The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On you who travel with him, no oath, nor bond is laid to go further than you will. Farewell. Hold to your purpose. May the blessings of Elves, Men and all Free Folk go with you." He said making it his final farewell and echoing the well-wishes of those who stood by to witness their departure.

"The Fellowship awaits the Ring-bearer." Gandalf said to catch Frodo's attention. The young Hobbit seemed to have drifted off into a land of thought and dream. Turning Frodo walked through the small pathway that the members of the Fellowship had created for him. Zamira looked down at him and saw that the Hobbit seemed have formed a sense of resolve and bravery within him. He walked till he came to the paths that led out of the valley, in which Rivendell was situated.

"Mordor, Gandalf, is it left or right?" Frodo asked in a whisper but Zamira's death-enhanced hearing caught it and from the twitch of the blonde elf's pointed ears, he had heard it too.

"Left." The wizard responded and Frodo turned down the left path and the other members of the Fellowship followed him out in an orderly line. Outside of the city they crossed over a bridge which led over a deep chasm which at the bottom a white-capped river flowed strongly. The order that the Fellowship took was Frodo and Gandalf side-by-side at the front, followed by Gimli, Boromir, Merry and Pippin, Legolas, Sam accompanied by a palomino pony named Bill, and Aragorn took the rear. Zamira found herself walking parallel to Bill the Pony and behind the blonde elf.

They followed the rocky path through the dense Rivendell forest and then out of the valley entirely and onto vast plains. The landscape was so different than what Zamira had seen in Rivendell. It actually reminded her of some areas in the Borean Tundra in Northrend. Yellowing grass covered the plains and fields while boulders and small cliffs of rock and stone were liberally sprinkled over the landscape. There were even ruins that still remained in the form of arches and walls.

Days passed by and the landscape shifted from yellowed grass and rocks to yellowed grass and small raggedy shrubs and other rough plant life. A week and a half after they had set out the Fellowship had stopped to take a short rest from walking for most of the company was sore, tired and quite hungry, even though there was plenty of food to go around. The rest sight was clump of massive white-colored boulders with shrubbery between them and a few clear patches where one could lay out comfortably on the ground.

Samwise Gamgee the Hobbit was sitting over a fire cooking sausages and a few Talbuk meat chunks that Zamira had asked him to cook for her. Up on a rock Gandalf sat whispering to himself with Gimli nearby looking out over the horizon. Down on one of the clear patches Boromir was sparring with the two Hobbits, Merry and Pippin, teaching them to use a sword. Sam and Frodo were sitting quietly on a rock and Aragorn was watching the Hobbits and Boromir silently from another rock. Zamira had sat herself near to the clear patch as well and was studying the human lord's fighting style and she had to admit it was a good form. It was very solid and powerful, giving plenty of opportunity to unleash a powerful blow to an opponent.

"Two, one, five. Good! Very good." Boromir said as he took light swings at the Hobbits as they practiced blocking his strikes.

"Move your feet." Aragorn said, trying giving helpful advice to the sword wielding Hobbits.

"Keep yourself square to your opponent and ready at all times." Zamira said as well putting in her own advice.

"You look good Pippin." Commented Merry from the sidelines.

"Thanks." Replied Pippin, who stepped off to the side because it was Merry's turn to practice his swordsmanship. From behind them they heard Gimli's voice speak up loudly.

"If anyone was to ask for my opinion, which I note they're not, I'd say we were taking the long way 'round. Gandalf, we could pass through the Mines of Moria. My cousin, Balin, would give us a royal welcome." He said trying to woo Gandalf into his way of thinking. But the Wizard was not to be swayed.

"No, Gimli, I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice." Gandalf said and then went back to looking at his maps and writings. Legolas from wherever he had been before came trotting through; though Zamira was pretty sure his 'trot' was just the elvish for of jogging but it seemed to prance-y to be that. He leapt onto and boulder and began looking out towards the horizon and up into the sky as if searching or looking for something. Zamira turned to look in the general direction that the elf was looking in and saw a dark strand of cloud that seemed to be twisting and turning in the air and moving towards them. A shout from the clear patch then tore her attention away and she saw that Boromir has accidentally cut Pippin during their spar.

"Sorry!" Boromir shouted as he attempted to rush forward to see the damage he had caused. But Pippin, already recovered from his injury, kicked him firmly in the shin and then together with Merry they tackled the human to the ground. They wrestled on the ground and Aragorn chuckled at their childishness and Zamira even cracked a light smile at the foolishness of them and felt her anger and dislike towards the human lessening.

Aragorn who had stood up approached the wrestling trio to put a stop to their rough-housing, but it was in vain for the Hobbits turned on him and grabbed his legs, lifting them and sending him flying onto his back. Zamira's smile only got larger as he grunted and the Hobbits carried on wrestling with Boromir. Zamira turning her gaze from the fun back to the area in which she had witnessed the strange cloud. It was closer, thicker and darker than before.

"What is that?" Sam asked over the yelling over the four wrestling members of the Fellowship.

"Nothing. It's just a wisp of cloud." Gimli said, giving his opinion as to what the moving shadow was.

"It's moving fast… against the wind." Boromir stated as he trained his own eyes on the cloud-thing, after standing up and dusting himself off.

"Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas shouted as he jumped hastily from his boulder and rushed for cover.

"Hide!" Aragorn shouted and everyone scrambled around grabbing supplies and Sam dumped a jug of water over the fire to extinguish it.

"Hurry! Take cover!" Boromir shouted as he too ran around and helped grab spare packs and such items to hide them from sight.

Zamira grabbing her baldric and sword dove under a thick bush and smothered the swords blue glow with her body by lying on top of it. She then closed her eyes to hide their own glow from the flying birds or whatever they were. She suddenly felt a close source of body heat next to her and peered out and saw the bright blue eyes and blonde hair of Legolas. Their faces were mere inches apart and a light pink flush covered the elf's cheeks but then the harsh flapping of wings made his face switch to a serious pallor.

Suddenly hundreds of small black birds flew over head. They were clearly searching for something as they flew over every surface trying to find something with their beady eyes. Minutes passed as they circled over head searching as thoroughly as they could but soon enough they flew off. Crawling out from their hiding spots the Fellowship watched the distant figure of the birds as it grew smaller and smaller. Zamira was kneeling with Mistrend cradled in her arms when a lightly tanned hand came into her view. She looked up and a smiling Legolas was offering his hand to help her up. Touched by his politeness she reached out and took the hand flinching slightly as his much hotter flesh touched her permanently cold skin.

"Spies of Saruman. The passage south is being watched. We must take the Pass of Caradhras." Gandalf said seriously as he directed his gaze to a snow covered landscape and mountainous area that was north of them. Zamira smiled internally with joy, since she was reborn in the cold and was immune to its effects. The rest of the day was spent hiking up hills and cliff sides to reach the snowy area. The next day was when they finally reached the snow. That morning Zamira had taken out her fur-lined Sentinel's Winter Cloak and switched her simple leather boots for her Spiked Deathdealers which were impervious to cold.

Trekking through the snow was a simple reprieve from the monotonous walking across grassy plains. Gandalf in a spark of brilliance put Zamira at the front, following the elf that somehow was walking on top of the snow. But like a never-tiring pack animal the undead woman plowed through the snow as if it were feathers and not hardened snow, untouched for many months.

Zamira stopped suddenly when she heard someone shout and looked back to see Frodo rolling down the hill becoming covered in snow. Aragorn quickly reached down and stopped the Hobbit's rolling and helped him off the ground. Frodo brushed the snow off of him and then realized something was missing and he reached inside his shirt where he usually kept the Ring. It wasn't there but Zamira saw Boromir bend over and reach for something in the snow. He straightened back up and in his grip was a silver chain and hanging from it was the Ring. Zamira heard its keening call in her mind as it called out to Boromir who stared at it as if in a trance. She walked back down the path in the snow that she had carved out and closed in behind Boromir should anything bad happen.

"Boromir." Aragorn said trying to break his fellow human out of his trance.

"It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing... such a little thing…" He said gazing at the Ring with a curious look in his grayish blue eyes.

"Boromir!" Aragorn yelled louder and Boromir froze as did his hand that had slowly been reaching for the Ring. Boromir then focused on Aragorn instead of the Ring.

"Give the Ring to Frodo." Aragorn continued. Slowly Boromir advanced on the Hobbit and Man and gave the Ring hesitantly to Frodo who possessively snatched it from him. Seeing as the threat of Boromir's betrayal was no longer imminent Zamira released her firm grip on the handle of Mistrend and saw that Aragorn was also releasing his grip on the handle of his own sword. As night fell it was accompanied by a blizzard but Gandalf was adamant about them continuing on their journey. So Zamira kept at the forefront, plowing through snow with Legolas as her guide who helped her avoid rocks hidden under the snow and other such obstacles. Behind her Gandalf struggled against the wind, Aragorn and Boromir were weighed down by the Hobbits which they had picked up when the snow became too deep. Then there was Gimli who was leading Bill at the back of the group. Suddenly Zamira stopped and looked up with wide eyes that glowed brightly in the encroaching darkness of night. Legolas too stopped and seemed to be straining to hear something.

"There is a fel voice on the air." He said loudly over the whistling wind and snow.

"And it is commanding a great magical aura." Zamira added in since she felt the pulsing of power amongst the wind and snow that was attempting to bend the weather to its will.

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf shouted and a resounding crack was heard from above them and a tumble of snow, ice and rock fell away from the mountainside. Legolas retreated hastily from the edge of the path and as he ran back grabbed the female Death Knight and pinned her against the rocky cliff side away from the falling debris. After emerging from the rocky crevices where they had taken shelter the Fellowship returned to the path.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain! Gandalf, we must turn back!" Aragorn yelled over the roaring noises of the blizzard as it lashed at them with blades of wind and the freezing sting of snow.

"No!" Gandalf shouted back and then climb up upon a snow bank and called out into the wind as well. Magic pulsed in the air and Zamira felt her own power rising to its call, her Runic Power boiling in her frozen blood, heating it, rushing through her veins, begging for escape. The battle of magic continued and then from above a flash of white appeared as a thick bolt of lightning struck the mountain and broke free a heavy mass of dense snow. It fell too swiftly for anyone to react in time and together as a group they were buried under many feet of snow.

Zamira struggled against its pressing weight, though not in danger of freezing she was quite susceptible of being crushed to death. She struck out with her arms and dug through the snow and pushed her way out of her icy prison. One of her hands broke through the surface and was quickly encased in warmth and she felt herself being pulled up through the snow. As her black haired head broke through she saw that it was Boromir to her surprise who was pulling her out of the snow. His face was grim but she could see a sort of resolve in his grayish blue eyes.

"Thank you." She said and nodded her head to the human lord who nodded back and then together they spread out and helped the already free Legolas in digging up the rest of the Fellowship. A few minutes past and soon enough everyone was free, but everyone except for Legolas and Zamira was shivering seriously. Zamira took off her Sentinel's Winter Cloak and wrapped it around Merry and Pippin who were hugging each other to share body heat. The smiled at her in appreciation and she nodded to them both.

"We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!" Boromir shouted over the wind.

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn yelled, rejecting the idea that Boromir had offered.

"We cannot pass over the mountain. Let us go under it. Let us go through the Mine of Moria." Gimli offered. Gandalf thought for a few seconds but then gave his answer to all three options.

"Let the Ring-bearer decide." He said and all eyes turned to Frodo.

"We cannot stay here! This will be the death of the Hobbits!" Boromir yelled trying to press Frodo into making his decision quicker.

"Frodo?" Gandalf asked, wanting to know the young Hobbits answer.

"We will go through the mines." Frodo decreed and a dark look passed over Gandalf's wrinkled face and his usually twinkling blue eyes darkened.

"So be it." Gandalf said and they set off through the snow heading down the mountain.

Hours passed by and soon the snow vanished as they descended and was replaced with solid stone, with not a single living thing to be found. Soon enough they came to a cliff face from which a great piece of stone architecture loomed above. Great arches suspending a channel of flowing water a few hundred feet above the stony ground, but the aqueduct had been smashed by some cataclysmic force and the rest was left in ruins. The continually flowing water still flowed through it and fell like a waterfall onto the stone below.

Continuing onwards they eventually came to a great cliff side where walls of rock extended into a misty sky hidden from their view. The flowing water from the aqueduct cut a deep riverbed into the stone and this too flowed along the cliff walls leaving only ten or fifteen good feet of walking ground. Gimli came up beside Zamira who had stopped and was looking at the wall of stone, clearly impressed by its sheer size and magnitude.

"The walls of Moria." The red-bearded dwarf said in awe and reverence as if the stone wall itself was a deity of some sort. More time passed and the light visibly decreased as they followed the wall. After sometime Gimli began to tap the rock with the blunt side of his two-handed axe.

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed." He stated, explaining the reason for his insistent tapping. Zamira heard Gandalf scoff from the front of the line.

"Yes, Gimli, and their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten." Gandalf said. From next to the Death Knight Legolas glanced over at her and smiled a bit in a teasing way.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" He asked in a rhetorical sense. Zamira felt her lips twitch at the elf's joke against the dwarf. Zamira heard a sudden splash and saw that Frodo had slipped on something and his foot had fell into the water. Scanning the silent and smooth water she looked to see if the disturbance would cause anything to rise and attack them. Nothing happened so she lessened her guard once again.

The group had stopped and Gandalf was standing between two trees that had grown themselves next to, and into the rocky wall. The trees' presence there almost seemed to pretty much yell out that there was a door there. Zamira approaching the gray clad wizard watched as he ran his withered fingertips across grooves in the stone.

"Ithildin, it mirrors only starlight and moonlight." He whispered to himself but she heard it clearly. Gandalf spun around and as if on his command a swath of black clouds and mist that were obscuring the moon's light blew away and revealed the silvery, shining orb. Zamira spun back around and backed up warily as the ridges and grooves that had once been simple stone now glowed in an eerie white light. It formed an archway with two standard columns wrapped with the vines of two rooted trees. A central jewel-like symbol sat in the dead center and the arch itself was inscribed in runes that Zamira could not decipher. Holding up his wooden staff the wizard translated the runes for everyone.

"It reads, 'The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter." He said as his staff moved from one rune to the next showing which symbol meant which words.

"What do you suppose that means?" Merry asked from the back where he was standing.

"Oh, it's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open." Gandalf said as if it were common knowledge. With that he put the tip of his staff to the central jewel-symbol and spoke words in a tongue that Zamira did not recognize, not that she thought she would recognize it anyways since this was a new world to her. Nothing happened. The doors remained the same, sealed shut, permanently. Or at least until they found the correct password.

Seeming confused as to why it did not work Gandalf took another body position and held his hands up towards the door and spoke another set of foreign words. Still the doors remained firmly shut. Pippin from his place standing between Zamira and Legolas looked up at them.

"Nothing's happening." He stated, because he was confused as to why the wizard's words had not opened the door yet. Gandalf having run out of vocal options tried to use physical force to open the door but that too had no effect. Then in frustration he began mumbling to himself.

"I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Elves, Men and Orcs." He mumbled but audibly so everyone who had gathered round could hear them.

"What are you going to do then?" Pippin asked innocently from his place between the undead woman and elf.

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them, then I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions… I will try to find the opening words." The wizard snapped back at the Hobbit. Seeing that most likely they weren't going to be going anywhere for sometime the Fellowship dropped their packs and found a nice place to sit and rest. Aragorn had gone to Bill and was removing the tack from the pony, while Sam helped him.

"Mines are no place for a pony. Even for one as brave as Bill. Go on, Bill. Go on." Aragorn said as he sent the now free pony back down the path they had come. From the shoreline the cousins, Merry and Pippin were making sport of tossing any rocks they could find into the water. Zamira was about to rise from her resting place at the base of one of the trees to make them stop but Aragorn beat her to it.

"Do not disturb the water." He warned in hushed tones and then released Pippin's arm which he had grabbed to stop the Hobbit from throwing his stone. Aragorn now stood at the shoreline gazing warily out into the water that seemed to now be moving. Boromir joined him and soon Zamira did as well. Her glowing blue eyes scanned the water and saw the tiny waves now rippling on its surface. From behind her she heard Gandalf's faint mumblings but then Frodo's gasp of understanding.

"It's a riddle. Speak 'friend', and enter. What's the elvish word for 'friend'?" Frodo asked turning to the now sitting wizard.

"_Mellon._" Gandalf said and without fail the doors opened outward, swinging towards them. The waves in the water were becoming rougher, and the four warriors who watched them; Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas and Zamira quickly ushered the Hobbits into the mines, fearing an attack at any moment. Gandalf then placed a clear crystal into his staff and by blowing on it lightly it glowed brightly and produced light for them to see into the darkness of the mine. Aragorn and Zamira entered in last and the Death Knight warily glanced behind her every few seconds waiting for whatever creature that dwelled beneath the water to launch its attack.

"Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves. Roaring fires, malt beer and ripe meat off the bone! This, my friend, is the home of my cousin Balin. And they call it a mine. A mine!" Gimli said, directing most of his speech towards Legolas who was glancing around with wide blue eyes at what surrounded them.

"This is no mine. It's a tomb." Boromir stated as he saw the skeletal remains of dwarves and some other creature scattered across the floor and pinned to the walls by barbed arrows. Gimli was shocked at seeing the dead bodies of his brethren lying on the cold, stone floor and he began yelling his depression into the echoing chambers beyond. Legolas stalked over to one of the dwarf corpses and plucked an arrow from the rivets of the rusting chain mail and looked at its black, barbed tip.

"Goblins." He said in disgust and quickly pulled out his bow and knocked an arrow of his own. All the others drew their weapons in preparation for whatever was coming their way. Zamira herself reached back and unsheathed Mistrend, which could sense the almost tangibility of impending bloodshed and was pulsing with excitement. As its wielder and master, Zamira couldn't help herself from grinning in her own excitement for the battle to come. She continually glanced around, her eyes sharp and wary; her ears perked for any sound and her bloodlust rolling off her like an aura of death and destruction. From her left side Boromir spoke up in a grave tone of voice.

"We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here. Now get out of here, get out!" He shouted his voice picking up volume and echoing in the tomb-chamber. Zamira sensed something wrong and tensed all her muscles in preparation to attack swiftly and surely. From behind her she heard Frodo cry out and the slithering of something over stone.

A long tentacle was pulling Frodo towards the water and the other three Hobbits had unsheathed their sword and were hacking away at the appendage. As the tentacle let go it retreated into the water which remained calm for a few seconds and then from its dark depth many identical tentacles shot out and knocked away the other Hobbits and wrapped around Frodo and lifted him high into the air.

Running full speed out of the chamber Legolas and Zamira led the attack. The blonde elf fired a quick arrow while the black haired Death Knight charged into the water with one of her hands extended outwards pointing at the tentacle beast.

"Blood Boil!" Zamira shouted and watched in glee as rich red blood suddenly sprang up from within the monster and it shrieked in agony. From above Frodo was dropped from the grip of the tentacles and into the waiting arms of Boromir who dashed with him into the mines again.

Seeing that the others were retreating Zamira planned to make a final attack that would, if not kill, but severely maim the terrible beast. Feeling the power of an unholy rune as it flowed from her body and into the sharp edges of Mistrend. Powerfully, she lunged forward and pierced straight through the nearest tentacle and released the disease into the flesh. The Plague Strike seemed to work as the whitish-gray skin of the monster turned an unhealthy green color. Turning from the beast Zamira began to run out of the churning water and back towards the doors to the mine. But the beast now furious and in a great deal of excruciating pain was trying to chase after the one who had struck it.

Reaching the gate way she rushed in and pushed Legolas and Aragorn who had been waiting for her further inside as she heard the monster crawling after her. Before she could knock him off balance Legolas fired a quick shot and struck the beast in the dead center of one of its eyes which sent it reeling backwards. But it recovered quickly and lunged at the stone doors which then with resounding cracks, collapsed on top of it and sealed the Fellowship in the mines. Gandalf then re-lit his staff-light and looked gravely over the now soaked to the bone group.

"We now have but one choice. We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world." He said as he began to lead them up a set of stairs. Everyone still had their weapons out, waiting for something else bad to happen.

"Quietly now. It's a four day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed."

**Ahahaha cliff-hanger! Sorry I couldn't resist and it was a rather good point to leave off this chapter. Or at least I thought so… don't really know about you people…**

**Well there it is… Chapter 7 of Eternal Undeath and now its time for the plot to thicken with the predestined events that are to come! Chapter 8 is next (obviously) and I hope you all enjoy reading this fanfiction. And it would be awesome if some more new people could review, it gets really tiring having to dedicate the chapters to the same people over and over again. Though of course I mean no offense to those of you who do review for every chapter because you people are hard-core AWESOME!). Oh, well…**


	8. Chapter 8

**Dedications go out to: Sharnorasian Empire, Ravenvanguard and CJNyfalt for reviewing on Chapter 7.**

**Disclaimer: I am not J.R.R. Tolkien or Blizzard Entertainment and all things that relate to their creations belong to them and not me.**

**Claimer: However I do own Zamira Snowfang, Oblivion, Mistrend and all other OCs that may or may not be introduced later on along the plotline.**

**Also as a WoW player and any others of you out there who play the game know that after raids, quests and dungeons you always get stuck with a bunch of miscellaneous junk that you don't know what to do with, except to pawn off in the auction house or sell it to vendors for some money. Well just as a warning Zamira hasn't been able to sell any of her junk lately so in her magical bag she's got a lot of stuff, besides food and drinks… **

**Once again, I recommend all you people who are reading this fanfiction to go over and check Sharnorasian Empire's story ****Shadowfire: The Metallics**** or else I will use a catapult of dead smelly fish and get you!**

**Also as a little guide/hint to my readers:**

-"Regular text such as this right here means its normal English/common/whatever the normal language of the people of Middle-Earth is."

-"_Italic text such as this will always mean elvish."_

**And there ya go… enjoy reading Chapter 8, which by the way is really, really, really long!**

A rocky, jagged chasm opened up below the narrow walkway that the Fellowship traversed over. Everywhere was rock, rock and more rock. There were features that looked like old architecture but in the darkness it was hard to tell. Zamira had chosen to bring up the rear, following after Boromir, who had lit a torch he had found on the ground but given it to Aragorn to carry. She used her glowing blue eyes to peer into the darkness for any threats. The path twisted and turned and in some place turned to into wooden structures to fill in the gaps. It certainly looked like a mine as far as the undead woman was concerned for she had been in many during her undead days and probably still more in her time as one of the living. Here and there, to ascend and descend, there were stairwells leading into the dark abyss, and arches leading away from their own path.

As they were walking down a narrow path that was carved out of a cliff face they saw ladders everywhere and old ropes, chains and mining equipment. Looking forward she saw Gandalf run his hand down a wall and inspect it closely with the light his staff produced.

"The wealth of Moria is not in gold, or jewels, but mithril." He said extending the crystal light of his wooden staff over the chasm and intensifying its light greatly. Leaning over the Fellowship looked down and saw the shining silvery veins of mithril running through the rocky walls and were awestruck. Then fulfilled with their looking at the precious ore they continued on their journey.

"Bilbo had a shirt of mithril rings that Thorin gave him." Gandalf stated to the group.

"Oh, that was a kingly gift." Gimli stated in wonder at the generosity of the gift.

"Yes. Though I never told him, but its wealth was greater than the value of the Shire." Gandalf replied, chuckling lightly in his amusement with the statement. The Fellowship soon came to a steep staircase that the Hobbits had to crawl up because they could not lift their legs high enough to reach the next step. Though Zamira and Legolas did not experience it, they could tell that the stairs were tiring their traveling companions greatly. After a great struggle they arrived at the top of the staircase to a makeshift plateau of sorts with three archways leading away from it. Gandalf had stopped and was looking at the three paths in confusion.

"I have no memory of this place." He stated and then promptly sat down on a nearby rock and began to think pensively. Seeing that once again they had been stopped the Fellowship broke apart and each found a place to rest. After finding a nice flat place amongst the rocks Zamira sat down and unbuckled her baldric from her back and set Mistrend lightly beside her. With the weight of the massive, two-handed sword off her shoulder she rolled them and twisted her back to pop the stiff joints. With a resounding crack she sighed in relief as her back loosened and her shoulder fell limp and relaxed. Off to her side Boromir was making a fire and Sam was getting a little bit of food out, which reminded her that she had not eaten much in over five days. Of to her side, Aragorn was lighting his pipe and Legolas seemed to be staring off into space but she could tell he was completely aware of everything going on around him.

Zamira looked down and frowned at her now soaked clothes and felt the need to change and then possibly put on her armor, just in case. Rising from her rock she started to walk back down the stairs to where she had seen a larger rock that would completely block her from view of the Fellowship. As she walked by Aragorn stood up and held out an arm to stop her.

"Where are you going?" He asked, though there was no anger or threat in his tone, just honest curiosity.

"To change. My clothes are soaked and I need to put on my armor. While I'm gone make sure no one touches my sword either." Zamira responded shaking off his grip and walking briskly down the stairs. As she descended she heard some creature scrabbling over rocks and stones, but it must have been cowardly for it was going away from her and quite quickly too.

Finally reaching the large rock, Zamira sat down on the other side of it and took off her Spiked Deathdealers and unbuckled her Girdle of the Impaler and set it down on the ground. Then she untied her satchel from the belt and opened the flap to reach inside and pull out her spare clothes and the rest of her armor. Piece by piece thick plates of metal were piled up next to Zamira and on top of that a pile of clothes. Standing up she shed the damp piece of cloth from her body tossing them over into another pile. Then she pulled a charcoal gray tunic over her head and then another pair of black breeches which she tied securely around her waist with the cord threaded in the waistline. Then she began to buckle on the pieces of her plate mail. Zamira felt as though instead of put on armor that she was putting on her true clothes, items she would wear all the time if she could.

The bluish-black pieces of metal were ice cold, as they always were and emitting the aura of death and cold from their surface. The carved skull on the right shoulder plate glowed an eerie blue color, which happened to be a few shades brighter than her own eyes. While the left shoulder plate had two spikes that stuck out a good three inches, and if she were to ram into anyone with they would be impaled upon them. Luckily she had remembered this in her fight against the elvish twins to only shoulder them with her right one. Before she buckled her belt she pulled her Tabard of the Ebon Blade over her armor and lovingly stroked the symbol and felt the stinging feeling of homesickness once again. Then she buckled her belt and re-attached the cloak around her shoulders. Then reaching into the satchel once again she pulled out her necklace, rings and trinkets. Placing them appropriately she went to close the lid to her bag when she saw in one of the pouches a beverage that she thought the dwarf Gimli would appreciate. So she pulled out the small flask of Barleybrew Gold that she had randomly obtained at some point. Then she closed the flap of her satchel and tied it to her belt securely.

Zamira then set off back up the stairs, making a little bit of noise as the plates of her armor moved over one another and the clinking of her boots on the stone ground. As she appeared over the ridge and saw the campsite almost all eyes turned to her. Their eyes seemed to be taking in the true details of her armor once again. Since apparently the show at the Training Grounds against the elvish twins; Elladan and Elrohir, hadn't been enough. Ignoring their stares she walked over to her rock, picked up Mistrend and reattached its baldric to her back. Then she spun around and approached the red-bearded dwarf.

"Dwarf, I have something of interest for you." She said quietly, but still audible to everyone around her. After Zamira had spoken those words said dwarf's head, which had been slouched forward on his knee, rose up and looked in her direction.

"Aye lassie, what is it?" He asked and just as her, he kept his voice down for precaution's sake.

"It is a beverage from my world. It is magically enhanced ale, brewed by the people of Northrend." She said extending the small flask towards the dwarf who popped the cork and sniffed its vapors.

"It smells wondrously, lassie. What is it made from?" He asked while he kept inhaling the aromas given off by the newly uncorked ale.

"To that I am unsure. I have never tried it myself, but I found myself with it after a trip to the Auction House in Dalaran. But I thought you could put it to use, and it would liven you up after the tragedy you have suffered so suddenly." She said while the dwarf took a small swig of the golden liquid and the grinned happily.

"Lassie, this is better than the most expensive malt beer that we Dwarves are known to brew." Gimli said in wonder while he chugged down the beverage. Zamira turned and was faced with the expectant stares of two light haired Hobbits. Merry and Pippin were looking at her in expectation.

"Lady Snowfang, do you have anything for us?" Pippin asked curiously glancing from her deathly pale face, complete with grayish lips and glowing cobalt colored eyes, then down to her enchanted satchel where it hung limply from her plated belt. Seeing no harm in amusing the young Hobbits, Zamira walked to a nearby rock and sat down upon it. With nimble, gloved hands she once again untied the small coin-purse sized bag from her belt and opened it. Looking through the compartments she sifted through her belongings. Her helmet and her small fortune of gold, silver and copper coins occupied two of the slots but many other miscellaneous items lurked there.

Seeing a faint, golden glow from one of the slots she grinned and pulled out a glowing reddish-gold of pure arcane energy. It was about half the size of her plated hand curled up into a fist. She held it out to Merry and Pippin who reached out in awe and took the orb in their hands.

"What is it?" Merry asked as he gazed into the swirl energy contained within the sphere. Pippin too seemed to be entranced by the orb and glancing around Zamira saw that the others, minus Gandalf who was still deep in thought, were also listening in.

"This is called the Orb of the Sin'dorei. I got this useless item from a raid that my allies and myself went on a while ago to a place called the Magister's Terrace. I got this particular item from the former Lord of the Blood Elves, Kael'thas Sunstrider. Blood Elves look very much like Legolas but their ears are much longer and their eyes glow green. I may call it useless but the Orb itself does have an interesting power." She explained while the reddish-gold glow lit the brown eyes of the Hobbits who focused on her.

"What sort of power? Is it powerful?" Pippin asked as he looked at the orb and then back at the Death Knight before him. Feeling as though she should indulge the younger members of the Fellowship Zamira decided to play along with their curiosity.

"If you want I can show you its power." She said taking the Orb from the Hobbit's hands and holding it in her own. A few seconds passed and then suddenly the features of the undead woman vanished and were replaced with a foreign face. Instead of standing at five foot eight inches with a muscle tones body, Zamira was reduced down to five foot four and the lithe body of a Blood Elf. Her usually deathly pale skin and gray lips were now a charming shade of peach with light pink lips pulled into an unhappy grimace. Her hair was a golden red color and her eyes instead of glowing blue now glowed a fel green. Her normal human sized ears grew far past the top of her skull and ended in thin points. Luckily her armor and Runeblade remained the same and her garb wasn't changed to a traditional Blood Elven gown of red and gold as she had seen from a distance during her travels. More seconds passed and the elven traits vanished and Zamira gave the Orb back to the Hobbits.

"That was amazing, but you can keep the Orb we don't want it now. We would prefer to stay as Hobbits." Merry said as he passed the Orb back and Zamira only sighed and replaced it in her satchel.

"Very well, whatever pleases you." She said and leaned back against the rocky wall and closed her eyes settling down to take a nap of sorts. But apparently that was not to be as a light tap was felt on the top of her head. Opening her eyes begrudgingly she gazed into the face of Legolas who was looking at her satchel curiously where it hung from its place on her belt.

"What other sorts of things does your magic bag contain?" He asked, as curious as the young Hobbits, if not more so.

"My helmet, my money, food, drinks, Frostweave Bandages and other miscellaneous things. Why do you ask?" She inquired as to why the blonde haired elf was so curious.

"No reason I am merely curious about your world and what sort of things it had. I did not learn much from our short conversation in the gardens of Rivendell." He said innocently, showing his youth, despite being an elf which if they were like her elves, lived for forever or at least ridiculously long periods of time.

"Ah, I see. Well right now is not a good time for me to launch into a grand tale of my eternal un-life." Zamira stated her voice, emotionless and as normal sounding like the hollow echo of metallic items clanging against one another.

"True enough. But when this is over and through I expect a full tale of your world for I am most curious about it." The elf said and then left for the place he had occupied this whole time. With the distracting presence of the elf gone, or reduced in the undead woman's personal space she finally relaxed and looked around. Up on a rock Gandalf and Frodo were whispering, Aragorn, Gimli and Boromir were clustered around a small fire, while Sam, Merry and Pippin all huddled together whispering things to one another. Suddenly in the partial silence there was an audible gasp and everyone turned to its creator. Gandalf was staring wide eyed towards the downward sloping pathway with a grin on his face.

"It's that way." The Wizard said while he pointed with a wrinkled finger to the path. Everyone looked up at him and began to rise from their spots amongst the rocks.

"He's remembered." Merry said.

"No. But the air doesn't smell so foul down here. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose." The wizard said in a merry voice. Hurriedly the Fellowship packed their things and they headed down the carved stone steps into the darkness only lit by the one torch they had, Gandalf's crystalline staff light and the faint glow of Zamira's eyes. The tunnel led them on for some time before ending in a great, cavernous room where the stone walls were etched with lines and runes.

"Let me risk a little more light." Gandalf whispered to himself as the crystal at the top of his staff glowed brighter and its light extended out into the darkness. The white light illuminated huge rocky columns that extended up to a great ceiling.

"Behold the great realm and dwarf-city of Dwarrowdelf." The gray-robed wizard said as the Fellowship looked at the great room that seemed to extend for miles in many directions.

"There's an eye-opener, ain't no mistake." Zamira heard Sam whisper from behind her as he too was struck by the sheer size and complexity of the great room. After a few minutes of gawking the Fellowship began its slow precession across the room. Minutes passed and soon they saw the skeletal remains of more dwarven warriors and probably a few Goblin corpses as well. Coming around a column, Zamira saw a doorway that led to a room where a block of stone lay and a shaft of sunlight shone upon it. As it came into view Gimli let out a rush of air that sounded like a gasp, or the dwarven equivalent of one. He ran quickly towards the room without any warning.

"Gimli!" Gandalf yelled in warning as the others soon rushed after the dwarf as well. Upon entering the room the Death Knight saw Gimli kneeling before the block of stone which she now knew was actually a coffin made of marble. The dwarf was weeping in grief meanwhile Gandalf approached the other end and read the runes that were carved into its surface.

"'Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria.' He is dead then. It's as I feared." The Wizard said removing his pointed hat and looking sorrowfully around. Then glancing down his eyes rested upon a dwarven skeleton that was clutching a thick bound book to its chest. After handing his staff and hat to Pippin he moved the boney arms away from the book and lifted it free.

Upon its opening, the binding creaked and dust and a few pages fell away to the ground. Gandalf blew lightly on the parchment's surface and a cloud of dust floated off it. Legolas from beside Zamira and Aragorn looked over to them, his pale face once again a mask of seriousness.

"We must move on. We cannot linger." He said gravely, sensing that something bad was about to happen. From her back Mistrend was pulsating in anticipation, just like it had before when the monster in the water had attacked. But then her focus was taken as Gandalf began to read aloud:

"'They have taken the bridge and the second hall. We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums... drums in the deep. We cannot get out. A Shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out. They are coming.'" He read but then everyone jumped as a clang was heard and then it repeated over and over again. Looking around Zamira's eyes lit upon Pippin who stood, pale faced, staring at a headless skeleton. The undead woman guessed that the clang was from its head dropping down the well it was seated upon. Then a creaking was heard and to their dismay the rest of the body along with a thick length of chain and a bucket followed after the head. The noise was great, compared to the silence of the mines and everyone knew now that something bad was definitely going to happen, and it was going to happen soon. Closing the book, Gandalf glared at the clumsy Hobbit.

"Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time, and rid us of your stupidity." Gandalf said harshly as he took back his staff and hat from the hands of the Hobbit. As they turned away from the well a faint drum beat was heard from its depths. Then another and Gandalf turned to look at the well with a fearful look on his face. Following the ever increasing drumbeats were animalistic screeches and roars that echoed and carried throughout the mines. Turning and looking everywhere Zamira caught the sight of a faint blue glow out of the corner of her eyes and saw that Frodo's small sword was glowing blue.

"Orcs." Stated Legolas in a disgusted tone while Boromir turned and ran towards the door they had entered from. A whistle in the air and two blackened arrows embedded themselves in the door, where seconds ago Boromir's head had been.

"Get back! Stay close to Gandalf!" Aragorn yelled to the Hobbits as he and Zamira charged for the door to help Boromir barricade it. As the doors swung shut Boromir leaned against it, panting for breath.

"They have a cave-troll." He said sarcastically while Zamira and Aragorn caught long-shafted axes that Legolas was throwing them. Using the axes they sealed the door as best they could and then ran back to the center of the room and prepared for battle.

Now situated in her two hands, Mistrend was screaming for blood, letting bloodlust roll off its blade in waves of hunger. Zamira felt its hunger and grinned sadistically in agreement with the blade for she too hungered for a good, bloody battle.

The makeshift barricaded doors shuddered and moved as the Orcs on the other side tried to push their way through. With a cry of his own Gimli stood up from his kneel and stood atop the stone coffin baring his own axe and one of his fallen brethren's.

"Let them come. There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who draws breath." He said growling fiercely and readying his axes. To her left and right Aragorn and Legolas had drawn their bows, while Boromir was wielding his sword and shield. Small holes in the rotting wood appeared from the spears and axes of the Orcs as they attempted to break their way through. As one hole got big enough Legolas let one of his arrows fly and it struck the creature that was there. It let loose a shrill cry of pain from the shot. Then Aragorn let loose his own arrow which went through the hole too and struck the same creature. Then the doors collapsed and a flood of black armored 'Orcs' charged in. Arrows flew as Aragorn and Legolas fired rapidly at the grotesque creatures that ran in.

In her opinion these creatures didn't even deserve to be called Orcs, for they were too deformed to be the tusked, green skinned Orcs she knew. But her thoughts were cut short as they swarmed forward and the battle began for real.

The confusion of battle set in and all she could think of was the bloodlust coursing through her veins, the runic power building up and the heaps of flesh and blood that were charging at her willingly. Falling back into old habits the Death Knight unleashed her fury. Blood boiled, diseases were spread and icy death embraced those who even came within five feet of the woman. Her Runeblade absorbed the black blood that liberally coursed its length and funneled the liquid's life-force into its wielder. Her minor wounds caused by the sheer number of the creatures healed instantly. Their crude armor was no match for the Titansteel blade as it sung in the air and decapitated three Orcs in one swing. Lifting one of her hands she unleashed the power of an Unholy Rune and watched as ten of the corpses at her feet twitched. Flesh fell away from their bones, their armor remained but no matter, armored Ghouls were just an added bonus. The creatures that surrounded her froze and watched as their once dead brethren were reanimated into the Death Knight's service.

Their gaping maws drooled and they leapt upon the Orcs and ripped into their flesh, devouring it and then moving onto their next prey. Despite being mindless Ghouls they knew instinctively who to attack. Suddenly the ground shook and Zamira grinned in glee as the cave-troll lumbered in. Its skin was thick and gray, dull, yellowed teeth hung from its drooling mouth, in its hand it wielded a massive, spiked hammer. Around its neck was a spike collar connected to a chain which was held by a single Orc. It roared as it entered the room but then screamed as an arrow pierced its hide. Legolas who had fired the shot ran away from the charging troll but Zamira leapt willingly into its path. He eyes glowed and her slaves clustered around her.

"Mistress…. we kill….. we eat?" They asked in unison in creaking voices.

"Yessss." She hissed out hungrily, narrowing her blue eyes at the great troll as it looked balefully down at her. Her armor was dripping with black blood and Mistrend was giving off a thicker cloud of blue mist but its edged shone with a reddish aura. Around her she was aware of her companions fighting the remaining Orcs but she also knew they were watching her as well.

Simultaneously, her Ghouls charged forward and leapt onto the Troll's body biting into its thick flesh and clawing its skin. Extending one of her hands she clenched it into a fist and used a Death Grip to pull the troll through the air to her. As it flew she placed both her hands on Mistrend once again and as it came down before her, she swung down mightily and sliced deep into its skin with a Blood Strike. Dark red liquid splattered over her and she grinned and licked her now red lips tasting the Troll's blood. Her Ghouls were knocked away by the Troll and they shattered on impact as most of them crashed into the small columns around the room.

"Death and Decay." Zamira said through her red stained teeth, which had once been a pearly, unstained white. The ground beneath her began to glow red and bubbled, while the Troll hopped clumsily from one foot the other while the corrupted ground beneath it burned the flesh of its large feet. Leaping away from the portion of evil ground the Troll swung around its chain as a weapon and struck wildly. Legolas who was up on a higher level leapt out of the way as the chain struck close to him. As its chain got stuck wrapped around a column Legolas leapt from his ledge and climbed nimbly onto the Troll's back and attempted to shoot two arrows into its skull but the thick bone shattered the arrows on impact.

Meanwhile, Zamira was slashing at the surviving Orcs that flooded around her so thickly that she would cut down one and three more would appear in its place. Not that she really minded, for despite their looks their blood was exotically different than those she was used to and tingled as it trickled down her throat. Out of the corner of her eyes she caught sight of the Troll as it went after Frodo only to be thwarted by Aragorn who now wielded a long spear as well as his sword.

Longing to watch the battle, the female Death Knight started to cut down her foes more quickly. Mistrend flying through the air, slicing flesh and feeble armor everywhere it went. After one rather large Orcs went down under the now glowing green edges of her Runeblade, Zamira saw Aragorn be flung to the side and Frodo be struck in the chest by the spear, now wielded by the Troll. Enraged by the death of the innocent Hobbit, Zamira spun in a tight circle cutting down the five remaining Orcs around her and charged at the Troll, shrieking like the Banshee Queen herself. Together as one entity the Fellowship closed in on the Troll. Boromir, Aragorn and Gandalf were striking at it with their swords while Gimli was wielding his two axes in a fury. Legolas from a safe distance took aim and shot an arrow into the roof of the troll's mouth but that did not kill it entirely. The monster was still stumbling around and groaning dumbly.

Screaming at the top of her lung to produce a bloodcurdling shriek Zamira launched herself from the sidelines where she had been prowling like a huntress. Wielding her Runeblade expertly she came down steadily and precisely cleaving the Troll's skull in two. Then she grabbed Pippin, who had remained on the troll's back, by the scruff of his cloak and leapt away from the falling corpse. Landing on the ground she pushed the young Hobbits behind her and watching with cold, glowing blue eyes as the Troll's body landed with a heavy thud. From the massive gash chips of bone and the oozing of goo and brain tissue rolled out and spread across the stones as well as the black blood of the Orcs and the dark red blood of the Troll.

Abandoning the corpse the Fellowship all rushed to the limp body of Frodo who lay on his stomach, the spear still imbedded in his chest. Aragorn knelt and rolled his body over to find that the Hobbits was breathing, all be it a little heavily, and rubbing the area that the spear had struck as if it was merely sore.

"I'm alright. I'm not hurt." Frodo said through is gasps for air.

"You should be dead." Sam said in wonder, shocked and surprised that his friend was not a corpse himself.

"That spear would have skewered a wild boar." Aragorn stated, for he too was in wonder as to why the Hobbits was alive.

"I think there's more to this Hobbit than meets the eye. " Gandalf said as Frodo glanced down and parted his white linen shirt to reveal a white sparkling shirt of chainmail.

"Mithril. You are full of surprises Master Baggins." Gimli said in wonder at the chainmail shirt with a grin on his face. But it fell when more shrieks and clangs of weapons and armor were heard in the distance.

"To the Bridge of Khazad-dûm!" Gandalf shouted as everyone scrambled upright and exited the grave chamber of Balin, the dead Dwarf. They ran back into the cavernous chamber and towards a place that Gandalf apparently knew the way to. Behind them more Orcs ran at them as they appeared from behind the massive columns. In the distance Zamira could discern more of them leaping up from cracks in the ground and some even crawled through the ceiling and were scaling down the columns. There were legions of them, simply appearing from every direction. The Fellowship skidded to a halt as they were surrounded. The Hobbits were placed in the center while swords and axes pointed outwards at the horde of grotesque creatures called Orcs. One had gotten close enough and it extended its clawed hand to touch Zamira but its hand was lopped off in a flash of silver before the Death Knight could even react. From beside her Legolas was glaring at the one-handed Orc with disgust in his blue eyes, one of his slim knives was out and coated in fresh black blood.

Suddenly the legions of Orcs quieted and a menacing, guttural roar was heard. Columns in the distance were bathed in an orange-red glow and the roar came again this time louder than before. The Orcs shrieked in fear and began fleeing in every direction that was away from the glow. Gimli laughed in triumph while the remainder of the Fellowship was gravely focused on the glow. Zamira could feel the air pulsing with power and it remaindered her of one beast she had fought before, along with her allies. This looming, fiery presence reminded her of Ragnaros the Firelord.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked from Zamira's right side. Gandalf stood still for many moments, his eyes closed and his body hunched over as if under strain. But his eyes opened when another roar was heard and the orange glow spread towards them as whatever it was moved forward.

"A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" Gandalf shouted as he tore off in the exact opposite direction as the fiery glow. The Fellowship followed, hot on the fleeing wizard's heels as he headed for another doorway that led into darkness.

"Quickly!" he shouted ushering everyone through. Boromir was at the front leading everyone onwards, hurried down a set of stairs and stopped suddenly careening on the edge. The torch flew out of his hand and fell down into the abyss. Legolas rushed forward, wrapping his arms around the off-balance man and pulled him backwards. They landed in a heap on the ground while the rest of the Fellowship arrived on the scene, including Zamira who was buzzing with energy and impatient about her increasing desire to confront this fiery demon called a Balrog. Gandalf stumbled in last and grasped Aragorn's shoulders while Zamira stood by and watched.

"Gandalf…" Aragorn began only to be cut off.

"Lead them on, Aragorn. The bridge is near. Do as I say! Swords are no more use here." He said shoving Aragorn forward but then turned on Zamira was beginning to follow after him.

"Except for yours, Zamira… I shall need you in this battle. I will need your ice powers to hold it off." Gandalf whispered to her and she nodded in understanding. Hurriedly they ran down the winding stone staircases. Then they came to an obstacle, before them the staircase was missing for a good four feet. Taking the initiative Legolas leapt over the distance easily and then turned back towards them. Behind them the door they had entered through shuddered and another roar was heard as the Balrog tried to force its way through.

"Gandalf." Legolas called urging the wizard to jump over. He did so while Legolas caught him securely then set him off to the side. Zamira jumped next with ease and the elf did not even attempt to catch her for fear of being impaled upon her armor's spikes. Suddenly, Zamira felt a pin-prick of pain from her back and glanced around to see a black arrow imbedded in her back in the unarmored place between her legplates and cuirass. Ripping the arrow out and tossing it to the side Zamira raised one of her hands to use Death Grip on the Orc archer who had shot her. But before she could do so a whistling ran through the air and the Orc dropped from his place and fell. Looking to her right she saw Legolas with his bow in hand and the taunt bowstring still humming and vibrating from its previous release.

"Merry! Pippin!" Boromir shouted as he grabbed them both and leapt across the gap. Just as he did so a large chunk of the staircase broke off under his feet and tumbled down. Meanwhile, Legolas was rapidly firing his arrows off at the bow-wielding Orcs that were firing haphazardly at the Fellowship.

"Sam!" Aragorn shouted as he tossed the sandy haired Hobbit over the gap and into Boromir's waiting arms. He then turned to look at Gimli, who raised a handed in rejection.

"Nobody tosses a Dwarf." He said and then by his own power ran and leapt over the now large gap in the staircase. But his jump was just short and only the tips of his booted feet touched the other side and he began to fall backwards but Legolas lunged forward and caught him by the braid of his beard. Zamira also rushed forward and grabbed the dwarf's arm and pulled him forward to safety.

With resounding cracks more of the staircase broke away and Frodo and Aragorn leapt backwards to a secure piece. The gap was now over twenty feet wide and was impossible for someone to jump. A loud, rumbling roar sounded again as the Balrog slammed into the rock wall behind the doorway and chunks of rock fell from the ceiling. One such chunk fell onto the stairs just behind where Aragorn and Frodo were standing. Then another crunching sound echoed and the pillar supporting their portion of the staircase began to crumble away. Their piece of the staircase began to rock from side to side.

"Lean forward!" Aragorn shouted over the sound of crumbling rocks to Frodo who did so and they slowly came forward towards the rest of the Fellowship. They leaped onto the stable continuation of the staircase while the other piece broke away and crashed downwards. Zamira rushed forward taking the place as second to last while Gandalf followed hot on her heels. As the staircase ended they ran full pelt towards a thin bridge made of rock, while behind them fires roared from nowhere and Gandalf and Zamira hung back making sure that everyone crossed before them.

Out of the fire a mass of black shadow, wreathed in flames jumped up and spread smoky black wings and raised its horned head. It opened its flaming maw and roared into the faces of the Wizard and Death Knight, who turned and fled towards the bridge with the Balrog running after them. The others had successfully crossed the bridge and Zamira stopped and turned to face the fiery demon. Behind her Gandalf raised his staff and sword together.

"You cannot pass!" He yelled at the Balrog. In defiance, the demon reared up and flexed its thick, muscled arms and spread its wings, amassing great flames which flowed outwards from its skin, showing its raw power. Zamira had dealt with enough show offs in her day that the show of raw power did not even make her flinch, though the blazing heat against her eternally cold skin was certainly an unpleasant nuisance.

"Gandalf! Zamira!" The Hobbits yelled from the other side, fearing for the lives of their companions who now battled the great, fiery demon.

"Chains of Ice!" She shouted over the grumbling roar of the Balrog, watching in pleasure as its body was wrapped up in frozen chains that shot out from the ground, binding it securely. It was furious and struggled against the blisteringly cold chains which cut into its black, ashen skin and hissed against its heat, fusing into the flesh. After many tense moments of struggling the Balrog snapped the frozen chains which melted under its bodies terrifying heat.

"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the Flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, Flame of Udûn!" Gandalf yelled, as a massive sword of fire formed in the Balrog's clawed hand and it swung down heavily upon them from above. Lifting Mistrend, Zamira course the power of a Frost Rune along its edge, which when the two huge swords met made the sword of fire shatter.

The Balrog reeled back and then steadied itself and lunged forward swinging out a black hand and smashing it into Zamira who blocked the main attack with the flat side of her Runeblade. But the brute strength behind the hit sent her flying up and over Gandalf and into the stone wall on the other side of the bridge. Her head smacked against the wall with a crack and her eyes became unfocused and she felt her body fell through the air and then halt as something warm caught her. Looking blearily upwards she saw two blue eyes and a halo of blonde hair looking over her but another set of blue eyes also looked down on her. Vaguely she recognized them as Legolas and Boromir but did not know which the one that had caught her was. Turning her head to the side she saw a blurry outline of Gandalf and the glowing figure of the Balrog as their battle still waged on.

"Go back to the Shadow." She heard Gandalf yell as the Balrog took a step onto the bridge and advanced on the gray-robed wizard. Raising its hand in the air it conjured another weapon from the flames but this time is was a long forked whip that was summoned. Flick its wrist the Balrog made the whip crack in the air menacingly as it still advanced.

"You shall not pass!" He yelled as he brought his sword and staff together and slammed them on the surface of the bridge. The collision produced a bright white flash that blinded the stunned Death Knight who had now been released from the arms she had been cradled in. But she was now leaning heavily upon Legolas, who was supporting her weight easily and had an arm wrapped securely around her armored waist.

The Balrog, undeterred by the flash of magic, charged forward only to have the thin bridge collapse under its hoofed feet. It fell down into the darkness, roaring angrily and attempting to flap its smoky wings to fly but apparently the wings were meant for show, but not for flight. As the fiery glow of the demon vanished Gandalf let out a heavy sigh and turned from the edge but before he could even take a step the whip cracked once more and wrapped around the wizard's ankle. His sword and staff fell down into the abyss while Gandalf clung with his fading strength to the edge.

"Gandalf!" Frodo shouted as he attempted to run past Boromir and to the wizard but the Hobbit was held back by one of Boromir's arms.

"Fly, you fools!" Gandalf shouted as his grip failed and he slid over the edge and followed the Balrog into the dark chasm that lay under the bridge.

"NO!" Frodo screamed in despair as he struggled against Boromir's strength try to go after his friend and father-figure. Zamira felt a pang in her chest, where her slowly beating heart was, and felt a single trail of something cold and wet fall down her dirt and ash stained cheek. Picking up Frodo, Boromir yelled to Aragorn as the man ran into the tunnel that would lead them to the exit. Turning away as arrows glanced off the rocks around them Legolas and Zamira too dashed for the exit tunnel while Zamira clenched her hand around the hilt of Mistrend which luckily was still in her hands.

They burst out from the tunnel through a great archway and into blinding sunlight that had them all squinting after being stuck in total darkness for so long. A great expanse of land was covered in huge boulders and plates of rock. Legolas sat the still unsteady female Death Knight to the hard ground where she lay back against a boulder and took deep breaths trying to calm the pounding pain within her skull. Looking around her she saw that everyone was grieving for the loss of the old wizard.

Gimli was shouting and screaming obscenities about ripping out the hearts of every last Orc in Moria and sending it in a hand woven basket to the rotting grave of Morgoth… whoever that was. Boromir was restraining him, while shouting his own words over the dwarf's threats. Sam was crying silently while curled up next to another boulder, while next to him Merry held Pippin in his lap while they both cried together. Legolas stood a few feet away from Zamira and looked extremely pained but was not shedding tears.

Zamira finally having enough with her pain reached into one of the pouched built into her belt and retrieved one of her Living Ice Crystals and held its smooth surface to her forehead. She felts its power flow into her and healed her wounds. The throbbing pain from within her skull vanished and she felt the cool sensation as the arrow wound in her back healed. After her wounds were gone she put the crystal back into its place and stood up slowly from the ground and sheathed her Runeblade into its baldric.

"Legolas, get them up." Aragorn said as he sheathed his own blade and began going about rousing the nearest Hobbits from their grief.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir yelled in refusal as the blonde elf too began to rouse the Hobbits nearest to him.

"We do not have a moment. Their grief will have to wait until the time allows for it." Zamira said as she came up beside the human and laid a plated hand to his shoulder.

"Zamira's right. By nightfall, these hills will be swarming with Orcs. We must reach the woods of Lothlórien. Come, Boromir, Legolas, Zamira, Gimli, get them up." Aragorn said as he turned and began to search for Frodo who seemed to have vanished. Zamira moved over to Merry and Pippin who were closest to her and knelt down to their level.

"Come, young Hobbits, we must move quickly so we can reach a safe place to grieve for our losses." She said softly, her voice not as cold and unyielding as usually, melting down into not the echo of clanging metal but the soft hum of a struck blade. After rousing the depressed Hobbits and retrieving Frodo who had wandered off on his own, the remaining nine of the Fellowship set off for Lothlórien. At a quick gait, they crossed dying plains and small, chilly streams as they grew ever closer to a looming green forest that spread from horizon to horizon in the distance.

**And there we have the end of Chapter 8 of Eternal Undeath. It took me approximately seven hours of straight writing and then watching about five minute sections of the movie itself to write three quarters of this chapter. Then another about two before (earlier on June 19****th****) for the first quarter and then about two and a half hours spent editing the crap out of this super, duper long chapter. Actually this ending page is the 9****th**** page of this chapter… quite a lot of writing, and this font is pretty small (Calibri size 10). And as we leave off our lovely Death Knight is about to enter the magical, golden wood of Lothlórien... I wonder what will happen? *dramatic music***


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for such a long wait! I am so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so sorry! *bows before your feet* the long wait was due to lack of motivation and the fact that I was stuck on part of this chapter since I didn't know how to write it. (Thank you Sharnorasian Empire for helping me out of that dark, sad, evil, smelly, dead fish-filled pit of despair and dead things!) But here is Chapter 9!**

**Dedications go out to: Sharnorasian Empire, Ravenvanguard, superZODAMnova and CJNyfalt for reviewing.**

**Disclaimer: I am not J.R.R. Tolkien or Blizzard Entertainment and all things that relate to their creations belong to them and not me.**

**Claimer: However I do own Zamira Snowfang, Oblivion, Mistrend and all other OCs that may or may not be introduced later on along the plotline.**

**Once again, I recommend all you people who are reading this fanfiction to go over and check Sharnorasian Empire's story ****Shadowfire: The Metallics**** or else I will use a catapult of dead smelly fish and get you!**

**Also as a little guide/hint to my readers:**

-"Regular text such as this right here means its normal English/common/whatever the normal language of the people of Middle-Earth is."

-"_Italic text such as this will always mean elvish or in this chapter and only this chapter some conversations in one's mind."_

-"**bold text is Dwarvish and will only be seen in this chapter."**

**Enjoy reading Chapter 9, though I will admit it is rather boring and I wanted to cut the boring stuff into a short chapter of its own while I start on the true awesomeness in chapter 10.**

Soon, the tundra-like fields gave way to a vast expanse of fertile land, covered by a thick blanket of lush green grass and other such greenery. But the nine remaining members of the Fellowship's ten still kept their pace. When the younger and smaller Hobbits dropped behind, the stronger and more enduring of them picked up their companions and ran with them in their arms. Zamira currently had Merry situated in her arms, since her back was hampered by Mistrend, while keeping pace besides her was Boromir with Pippin on his back.

There seemed to be a lulling peace between the undead woman and the mortal man now, for they did not feel burning hatred towards one another any longer. But a strong sense of companionship and in Boromir's case acceptance that Zamira was far out of his physical range and was worthy to be a part of the Fellowship. Soon a thick tree line arose from the horizon which was nearing ever faster.

In a matter of minutes they reached the forest and slowed from their furiously paced jog to a loping stride. Letting the Hobbits down Zamira looked around, her glowing blue eyes taking in the lush vegetation. The trees were moss covered; the multi-colored leaves were strewn haphazardly across the ground forming a crunchy carpet.

Aragorn took the front of the line and began leading them onwards into the forest as if he knew the way. Looking up Zamira could see the blue sky from the small bare patches in the canopy. The forest itself felt like it was emitting a magic, Zamira herself could feel a faint pulsing in the air as if the forest was sensing them, seeing if they were friend or foe. As they progressed the trees became thicker around their trunks and their roots ripped up from the soft ground providing something to trip over if one wasn't careful enough. Zamira walked at the forefront, parallel with Legolas and just behind Aragorn. Her hands twitched in anticipation as they longed to grab the handle of Mistrend for security's sake.

"Stay close, young Hobbits." Gimli urged from behind her as he brought the four of them around him as if it was story time.

"They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods. An Elf-Witch… of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell. And are never seen again." The Dwarf said and Zamira grinned at the thought of finally meeting this elf-witch, Lord Elrond's mother-in-law who says that she could return Zamira's true power. The Death Knight missed the wider range of her abilities greatly; along with her mounts: From Oblivion her Acherus Deathcharger, to even her rarest and most frightening mount… her Furious Gladiator's Frostwyrm.

Zamira then felt a light brush of magical energy upon her mind, much like the touch of Arthas' mind but softer and much less menacing.

'_At last, you have reached my domain, Knight of Death. I bid you welcome, Lady Commander Zamira Snowfang of the Knights of the Ebon Blade, to the golden wood of Lothlórien. Be prepared for we shall meet soon.' _A light whispering, feminine voice said into the recesses of the undead woman's mind. But Zamira was shaken from her dazed caused by the mind conversation by a gruff voice behind her.

"Well here's one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox." He said only to come face to face with an arrow. Zamira too was surrounded by arrows and seemingly more than anyone else in the ground. Surrounding them was a large number of blonde elves. Walking from amongst their numbers a tall and well muscled elf walked out with a smug smile on his face.

"The Dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark." He said as he looked over the Fellowship with hazel colored eyes.

"You will follow us. Here is not a safe place to converse." The lead elf said as he turned and the Fellowship was led farther into the forest.

A few hours later just as the sky began to grow dark they reached a set of trees from which many rope ladders hung and dangled in the air. The armed elves escorted them one by one up the rope ladders until it was just Boromir and Zamira left at the bottom.

"Ladies first." Boromir said with a faint sarcastic grin, attempting to lighten the serious mood. Zamira took the bait willingly and cracked her own joke in retaliation.

"Living before the dead." She said while her gray lips twitched as they felt the urge to lift into a playful smile.

A few minutes later they were all situated upon wooden platforms that sat high in the trees. The leading elf once again appeared and one by one walked amongst the members of the Fellowship.

_"Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion. (Welcome, Legolas, Son of Thranduil.)"_ The elf said to Legolas in what Zamira guessed to be their native language. Though it sounded nothing like Darnassian or Thalassian.

_"__Govannas vîn gwennen le__, Haldir o' Lórien. (Our Fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lórien.)" _Legolas responded with a respectful head nod to the elf, who, Zamira guessed was called Haldir. Then Haldir's eyes swept across the line of them and landed on Aragorn,

_"__A Aragorn in Dúnedain istannen le ammen__. (Aragorn of Dúnedain, you are known to us.)_" Haldir said to Aragorn who nodded in respect. From in front of her Gimli huffed and scoffed at the exchange of the foreign elvish.

"So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves! Speak words we can all understand!" Gimli shouted angrily showing is dislike for being amongst the presence of so many elves.

"We have now had dealings with the Dwarves since the Dark Days." Haldir said in a baritone that was spoken in richly accented Common.

"And you know what Dwarf has to say to that? **Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul. (I spit on your grave.)**" Gimli said his voice sounding not gruff as usual but more like the cracks and crumbling of stone being round down into fine powder. Aragorn frowned deep and grasped the Dwarf's shoulder in his hand and glared at him.

"That was not so courteous." Aragorn said quietly while Haldir moved on and looked to the back where the Hobbits stood, being guarded by Zamira who had her right plated hand wrapped securely around the handle of Mistrend. Looking beyond her Haldir set his eyes upon Frodo who cowered under his cold, hazel gaze.

"You bring great evil with you." Haldir stated simple and then his eyes swept up and met Zamira's, which narrowed into glowing, icy blue slits.

"Ah, this must be the undead Knight that our fair lady spoke of. Greetings, Lady-Commander." Haldir said seriously and nodded in respect towards her while his hazel colored eyes lingered on her face, roving over its features. Zamira was surprised by his sudden shift in mood from the elf that had just been glaring at Frodo then nearly bowing to her. But then Haldir turned away and walked to a place up ahead of them and spun on his heels to face them all.

"You can go no further." He said bluntly and then walked away, though Aragorn briskly followed after him and they began arguing in hushed tones on the other side of the platform. The Fellowship bunched together at the other end, except for Zamira who was curious as to how these elves worked. She remained near the center watched as some of them, mostly lightly armed and armored leapt from platform to platform and ran along amongst the boughs of the thick trees. After nearly half an hour had passed Haldir and Aragorn returned from their argument.

"You will follow me." Haldir said as the Fellowship rose from their sitting positions, except for the undead woman who had remained standing. They climbed down from the platform back to the forest floor and then began to trek quickly along a faint path. Five other elves, including Haldir accompanied them, with two of them leading in the front and three bringing up the rear.

The next day dawned and they were still walking but Zamira could tell they were getting close for the pace picked up even more until it was close to power-walking. Coming over a steep rise they all saw a dense clump of trees that seemed far too big to be normal trees in the distance.

"Caras Galadhon. The heart of Elvendom on earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light." Haldir stated as they began the decent into the valley. The thick trees gave way to small buildings and cobbled pathways. Up in the boughs of the trees more platforms took root except these ones had walls and ceilings built on top of them, like small houses in the trees. More elves were seen, women and men wandering about, all of them glancing at the newcomers with curious eyes. Zamira felt many of their stares focused on her, and quite a few of them began to radiate fear, which a Death Knight always took pleasure in causing.

Soon the trees grew thicker and along the outsides of their trunks stairways wrapped their way up into the higher boughs. Lights were placed into some hollows and lampposts lighting the way as the sun set and the night came. This whole city so far only reminded Zamira of Darnassus, the capital city of the Night Elves.

Haldir began to lead them up a staircase that seemed to extend endlessly upwards. The lights now glowed instead of a pale gold; they gave off a silvery light_. _As they came around one corner they came face to face with a great structure made of woven, white branches. In front of the structure was a large flat platform upon which Haldir led them to stand on. A few moments passed and a white shining light soon appeared from the structure and began to descend the stairs at its entrance. The light dulled and a tall man and thin woman were revealed, but Zamira knew better and could barely see the pointed tips of their ears.

The male elf was clad in flowing robes of silver and white, while his ash blonde hair fell straight down past his collarbones and a pair of light brown eyes that were completely serious as they gazed upon the nine before them. The female elf was garbed in a dress of pure white that shone in the light, her eyes unlike her companions were a cornflower blue and her hair fell in bright gold waves down to her waist. They stopped at the bottom of the staircase and gazed at the remaining members of the Fellowship.

"The enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now lost. Nine there are here, yet ten there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar." The male elf said and Zamira had a hunch that this was the Lord Celeborn that Haldir had spoken of earlier.

"Gandalf the Gray did not pass the borders of this land. He has fallen into Shadow." The female whispered, who, if Zamira was correct, was Lady Galadriel, if the male was indeed Lord Celeborn.

"He was taken by both Shadow and Flame. A Balrog of Morgoth. For we went needlessly into the net of Moria." Legolas stated letting the two elves know of Gandalf's demise in the dark caverns and chasms of the Mine.

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his full purpose." Galadriel said gently. From her right Zamira heard Gimli huff in sadness and then Galadriel's bright blue eyes locked on him.

"Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli, son of Glóin. For the world has grown full of peril, and in all lands, love is now mingled with grief." She said dragging her eye across the line and focusing on Boromir who broke under her gaze's strain and began to weep openly.

"What now becomes of this Fellowship? Without Gandalf, hope is lost." Celeborn said gravely.

"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while the Company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep." Galadriel said as her gaze once again focused on Frodo for a few seconds and then switched the glowing eyes of Zamira.

_"I bid you welcome, Lady-Commander Snowfang. Tomorrow morning we shall speak of your quest to regain your powers. Go now and rest."_ Galadriel's voice spoke into her mind. Zamira nodded in recognition to the elvish woman and followed after her companions who had begun to climb back down the tree to wherever Haldir was leading them to now.

Within minutes they were unpacking into a small set of rooms formed out of the roots of the great tree. Zamira had been greeted by a pair of lithe elvish females who had led her to a private bathing spring to clean up. After an icy glare sent the two women fleeing in fear, after they had attempted to help her bath, Zamira calmly began to wash her body with a rough bar of lye soap she had in her satchel. Oddly enough even the undead woman enjoyed being clean when she was not in mid-battle. She enjoyed immensely the feeling of being coated in fresh blood as it would warm her cold skin. But just like any female when she was not to be fighting, cleanliness was appreciated.

After bathing she stored away her armor and even placed Mistrend and its baldric within her satchel and then clothed herself in a long black tunic and a pair of charcoal gray leggings and left her feet bare. Letting her damp hair hang down she realized that the locks had grow a good five inches and now instead of their tips reaching the middle of her back they now trailed at her waist. Shrugging nonchalantly she ran her pale fingers through the strands undoing any tangles or knots.

Walking briskly back down the path she had been led down she returned to the hollows where the Fellowship would reside for five days to recuperate. As she walked into the camp she vaguely took notice of eight pairs of eyes on her. Looking around she saw that all their eyes were on her and it was a bit unnerving.

"Why are you all looking at me?" She asked watching them all with narrowed eyes, suspicious of their stares.

"I am shocked that such a good-looking woman was hiding under the guise of an ice cold bitch." Boromir said with a roguish smirk and a twinge of dislike in his eyes and Zamira frowned at him.

"I thank you for the _compliment_, Lord Boromir. But your shock or appreciation for my appearance is not needed or wanted." Zamira said and then kept walking toward the free cot on the far right-hand side of the hollow. She sat on the white linen cover sheet and let out a sigh. An oddly feminine action for her but it must be done for her heart was once again feeling the uncomfortable sense of homesickness. Though, the whole city, that these elves called Lothlorien, reminded her of a gold version of Darnassus. Laying her head in her hands she closed her eyes momentarily and took a moment to recompose her half-alive hearts emotions. Then she sensed the approach of at least five people. Opening her eyes she peered between her fingers and saw Merry, Pippin, Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn. The elf and man took a seat on the opposite cot while the Hobbits sat on either side of her and the dwarf leaned against the earthen wall.

"Something ails you? What is it?" Aragorn asked as he studied the undead woman with a critical eye.

"I feel what a mortal would call homesickness. I miss my world greatly. Not that this world is bad, but I miss mine just the same." Zamira admitted and Legolas nodded in understanding.

"It'll be alright. Maybe when all this business is done the elves can find some sort of magic to have you go back home." Merry said and looked hopefully towards Legolas, for the elf's comment.

"It may be possible to do that." The elf said but a saddened look passed his face, but most of them missed it except for the ever aware Aragorn and Zamira who were puzzled by the elf's sudden change in emotion.

"Though to lighten the subject, I will say Lady Zamira, you do look very pretty." Pippin said cheerfully and grinned widely up at her.

"Thank you, Pippin that is kind of you. Not many people have ever said that a Death Knight was pretty." Zamira said acknowledging the young Hobbit's compliment.

"Well Pip, let's be off. I am tired, and if I am tired you must be exhausted." Merry said and dragged his cousin away to the left portion of the hollow.

"If you wish you can tell us more about your world, I am still extremely curious as to how it works. It may also ease the feeling of homesickness, or so I have been told." Aragorn offered and the undead woman nodded at the man and took on his suggestion, since she did not mind speaking of her world, since it was a magnificent world to live in...or un-live in.

"What do you wish to know about?" She asked and Legolas' sad expression vanished and he looked up with his sky blue eyes and brushed a loose strand of blonde hair out of his face.

"I wish to know of the Elves of your world. What their cultures are like? What sort of magic they can do? Things like that." He asked and Zamira nodded as she looked through her mind to find everything she knew about Blood Elves and Night Elves.

"I shall start with the Blood Elves since I know less about them than I do about Night Elves. The Blood Elves call themselves the Sin'dorei or in their language of Thalassian it means 'children of the blood'. They were formerly High Elves but they renamed themselves in honor of the members of their race that were killed in the siege on Quel'Thalas by the Scourge in the Third War. Quel'Thalas was their home land and an army of the undead under the control of Arthas decimated their capital city of Silvermoon and most of their population was wiped out. Before the siege most Blood Elves had replied on the power of the Sunwell to fuel their arcane powers, but Arthas corrupted it and made it unusable. They were once led by their Prince, but he soon fell to corruption by the hand of Illidan the Betrayer. After this they began to draw upon other sources of arcane power, mainly from fel sources and thus the evil energy altered them and began changing their appearances. But this is about as much as I know about Blood Elves, since I did not spend much time on studying my enemies in my undead life. Though I may have in my first life, but I do not remember it." Zamira said and she looked over to see that Legolas had a far off look and Aragorn had a small frown on his face. Glancing around, she saw that Gimli was sitting on the ground between the cots listening intently.

"What about the Night Elves?" Legolas asked curiously, breaking out of his reverie.

"I know much more about Night Elves since I am allied with them, and have a few… acquaintances amongst their numbers." Zamira said with a slight nod and began her lecture, falling into her mind and seeing the images that corresponded with the Night Elves.

"Night Elves, or as they call themselves in their native tongue Kaldorei which means 'children of the stars', are a naturalistic race, that aligns themselves closely with nature and animals. But they have a long, saddening history. I have read many books about Azeroth's history and in every one the Kaldorei suffer greatly. It all started with the War of the Ancients when Azshara, the most powerful of the elves, was duped into letting the Burning Legion into our world. The Dark Titan, Sargeras sent his minions through the portal to 'aid' in the portals completion to allow Sargeras into the world to steal the Well of Eternity. Then Malfurion Stormrage, the first druid of the Kaldorei realized that Sargeras was maleficent and that Azshara had now gone insane. Then all sorts of aid came to combat the tides of the demons from the portal. The demi-God Cenarius, the dragonflights and others all fought against the Burning legion, attempting to protect their world. But even as Malfurion used his magic to disrupt the portal's opening spell another catastrophe hit. With so much magic in the air the Well of Eternity ruptured and killed many in a cataclysm like no one had seen before. The elder druids set up a new Well of Eternity along with the planting of Nordrassil, or the World Tree at Mount Hyjal. Then they all entered the Emerald Dream to commune with Ysera, the Leader of the Green Dragonflight. But even to that point the Night Elves had been immortal, living forever to dwell in peace and magic but that all ended when Archimonde, the right-hand of Sargeras came through and attacked Mount Hyjal and Nordrassil. Using their combined magic the Night Elves beat Archimonde, but sacrificed their beloved immortality. Their style of magic is based with druidism, which is communing with nature and using its energies to heal, attack and even take the forms of animals." Zamira said as her mental slideshow ended and she opened her glowing blue eyes to look at her listeners.

Legolas was once again in trance; as if he was trying to imagine what she had just told them. Aragorn had a sad expression on his face like he was feeling the pain of the Night Elves. Though Gimli seemed to look uncaringly on the ground and not in the least touched by the pain of the Kaldorei. He looked up quickly when he felt her gaze on him.

"What would you like to know, Gimli?" The female Death Knight asked the red-haired dwarf.

"What about the dwarves of your world? Do you know much about them? If their history is as complex as the Night Elves they must be great and powerful." He asked curiously and Zamira nodded.

"I know a bit about dwarven history. So that is what you wish to know?" Zamira asked and the dwarf nodded rapidly.

"Very well, the Dwarves of Azeroth were originally called the Earthen, a humanoid creature literally made from stone. They were created by the Titans to help shape the world after they were gone. But later after a few incidents they turned into more fleshy versions of their humanoid bodies. Then they separated into different sub-races. There are the Dark Iron Dwarves, Wildhammer Dwarves, Frostborn Dwarves, Bronzebeard Dwarves and the Iron Dwarves. But they all had a parting of ways; the Bronzebeard, Wildhammer and Frostborn allied themselves with the noble Alliance and formed a capital city of Ironforge under the snowy mountains of Khaz Modan. The Dark Iron Dwarves allied themselves with the Fire Elemental Lord, Ragnaros and the Iron Dwarves allied themselves with Loken, the Titan Watcher who rules Ulduar, a Titan complex beneath the Storm Peaks in Northrend." Zamira said and Gimli nodded in understanding. Turning to Aragorn she wondered in her mind what the man would ask. Would it be to describe the Humans on Azeroth? Or would he ask something else?

"Aragorn, what about my world do you wish to know?" She asked and the mortal man looked up with a serious look in his eyes.

"It's not so much about your world but about you… what was your life like? Both when you were alive and how you are now? I would like to know more about you so I can feel free to trust you more, I feel like there is a barrier between you and the rest of the Fellowship." He asked and Zamira was surprised by what he asked.

"I will tell you what I can, but do not expect to hear good things about me." Zamira warned them and they, since Legolas and Gimli were still sitting around to listen, nodded in understanding.

"My past life is a messy blur; I can recall some things but not most as though my memories are locked away deep in my mind. I have been told that I was a Paladin of the Silver Hand in my past life. I was a Captain, leading a division of about forty other Paladins to combat the Scourge. But then revealed to me by Gandalf, when he searched my mind, I was killed in a battle against the Scourge and then my nearly dead body was carried away by a Death Knight. This is where my current memories start and the history marked by blood and gore begins. I was awakened inside the Ebon Hold that floated over the Eastern Plaguelands in the northern regions of the Eastern Kingdoms. I began my training as a simple initiate and quickly excelled in skill and because of that rank. Soon I was a leading Commander for a legion of the Scourge. I led them into many victorious battles, whether it was razing cities and villages to the ground for more corpses to bolster the ranks of the undead army or to eliminate enemies. I did it with pleasure; I took pure joy in slaying the innocent, poor, rich, men, women, even children. I didn't care for their lives only the sick pleasure of extinguishing life, I still feel that pleasure but it is duller now, more refined and can be controlled. I was controlled by the Lich King Arthas, who is actually two people combined. One is Arthas Menethil, the Crown Prince of Lordaeron, who happened to have also been a Paladin of the Silver Hand before he was corrupted by the Runeblade Frostmourne, and the spirit of Ner'Zhul, the former Lich King. I served him, as a loyal servant to his evil cause. Then the Battle for Lights Hope Chapel happened and I was released from his service. Our Highlord and my fellow Commanders were also freed and we created the Ebon Blade, a faction and home for the released Death Knights, who we knew would never find a true home in the living world. I usually travel around as an emissary for the Ebon Blade, but occasionally I join forces with a few others and raid a dungeon for its spoils and defeat the evil monsters within its depths." Zamira said as she narrated her life story in an abbreviated form.

As Aragorn and Legolas opened their mouths to say something a soft, delicate music was heard and they all listened in. It was very beautiful, yet at the same time extremely sad sounding. Zamira couldn't help but admire the flow of this elvish tongue and the strong emotions it could convey.

"This is a lament for Gandalf." Legolas stated softly as he listened to the singing. From the other side of the room Merry sat up on his cot and listened in too.

"What do they say about him?" The young Hobbit asked, his voice toned down and emanating an inner sadness. Legolas glanced down and rose from the other cot and walked away looking skywards with a morose expression.

"I have not the heart to tell you. For me, the grief is still too near." The blonde elf said solemnly and then walked away to a knot of roots emerging from another tree and sat upon them looking dazed and sad. From across the hollow Zamira could faintly hear Sam talking.

"I bet they don't mention his fireworks. There should be a verse about them." He said and then stood from his place and looked determined out at the rest of the Fellowship.

"The finest rockets ever seen. They burst in stars of blue and green. Or after thunder, silver showers. Came falling like a rain of flowers." He sang and then sat down with an embarrassed look on his face.

"Oh, that doesn't them justice by a long road." He mumbled with his face a bit red looking, but it was hard to tell in the evening light. Aragorn then glanced around and when he saw that Boromir was not sleeping he made to move to the other man. With a polite nod to Zamira, who returned it, he moved off. The undead woman then curled up on her cot again and tried to fall asleep. Darkness came quicker than she had expected and she realized that she was quite tired from the past few days of nonstop battle and the grief of the wizard's demise. Though she soon was fast asleep, unknowing of the bright blue eyes of a blonde Mirkwood elf that were watching her figure from the other side of the clearing.

**Author's Note: Alrighty that is the end of Chapter 9 and with the posting of this chapter the temporary hiatus on Eternal Undeath shall be lifted! Woohoo! Yay! Party time! Now then, if you liked the chapter and want more (I know you are there people) you need to review so I get pumped up with love and write faster. So review please, it makes me write faster, and feel loved. I also apologize by the boring-ness of this chapter but I am attempting to thicken the plot with a little romantic interest in Zamira from Haldir and Legolas… and also I have now come to conclusion of the poll "Who is Zamira going to be paired up with?" it will eventually be Legolas. Though there will be romantic tension between Haldir and Zamira, and Zamira referring to her sexual acts with Darion but the final pairing is going to be Legolas and Zamira. And that concludes Chapter 9 and I hope to see lots of reviews, story alerts and favorite story things from all of you!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Heyo! Sorry for the super long wait, but I'm back again for the long awaited (in my mind) Chapter Ten of Eternal Undeath. Not much to talk on about so I'll get right down the things that need to be said before the awesomeness begins.**

**Dedications go out to: Sharnorasian Empire (as always), ElldenStorm, CJNyfalt, superZODAMnova and EddBlackheart for reviewing. By the way, EddBlackheart thanks for the tip on the 'Honeyed Mead' I never would have known, since I don't drink. But kudos to you and your booze! XD**

**Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. World of Warcraft belongs to Blizzard Entertainment.**

**Claimer: However Zamira, all OCs, and anything you do not recognize from either WoW or LotR belongs to me.**

**Languages: Later in this chapter there will be demonstrations of different languages that belong to the various races of Azeroth and therefore I find it reasonable to let you know that which is which. Though after each line of whichever language there will be a translation. Here you go:**

_-Italics will be Thalassian._

_**-Bold Italics will be Darnassian.**_

**-Bold with be Orcish.**

-**Bold Underlined will be Taur-ahe.**

**WARNING! There will be brief sexual content in this chapter. There will be a notice/warning before that paragraph that contains it. There is also mention and description of mild bondage, such as tying a person to a bed. So if you are offended by that sort of content you may skip to the other notice that will come after the content to let you all know that it is over. **

**Also a note to everyone who reads this fanfiction… I have now started school and since I am a junior and taking a lot of very challenging classes. And because of this new chapters will be slower than they have been, maybe... I am not sure and I will try to get them out as quickly as I can without being a total lazy ass with my school work. This is just a heads up to you people.**

**And here we go! Onwards with Chapter Ten! **

The next morning dawned and soon the elves of Lothlorien were setting up a large table in their hollow's clearing for the morning meal. Zamira, as always, was up early and had changed into a dusky purple tunic and a pair of charcoal gray breeches in the privacy of a curtained off nook on the other side of the great tree.

She found herself munching away on some fruits while the others woke up slowly and groggily. The Hobbits joined her soon enough, then Boromir, who looked like he hadn't gotten a single wink of sleep. Gimli kept slumbering deeply. While the blonde Mirkwood elf and Aragorn rose from their own cots to eat their morning meal.

When Zamira was about to leave the breakfast table the elven March Warden, supposedly named Haldir, from the night before approached her at a brisk walking pace. He stopped before her curtly nodded his blonde head and then looked her straight in the eyes though he had to tilt his head down a little bit since he was taller than her.

"Lady Snowfang, the Lady Galadriel wishes to speak with you." He said in a business-like tone. Zamira nodded and let the tall, blonde elf lead her away and back up the very stairs they had descended the night before. They reached the platform but Haldir led her onwards, up the stairs and into a wide room where chairs, couches and tables were spread out to form a cozy, but open to the air, sitting room.

Sitting in a chair reading a book was the golden haired elven woman from the previous night. Looking up from her book she nodded to Haldir and with a polite bow he exited the room quietly.

"I trust you slept well, Commander?" Galadriel asked the female Death Knight who stood still in the middle of the room where she had chosen to remain.

"Yes, My Lady. My rest was good, though unnecessary." Zamira said.

"Please sit down; it seems far too formal if you remain standing with such a stiff posture." The elf-witch said and gestured to another chair which was opposite her. Taking the seat hesitantly, the undead woman sat down and gazed directly into the bright, cornflower blue eyes of the elvish woman.

"I assume, Lady Galadriel that you are going to tell me this 'quest' I have to go on to regain my full powers?" Zamira asked, impatient with waiting for so long and her well of power only one third full.

"Straight to the point I see. But yes I am going to tell you of your quest this morning, so you may begin it as soon as possible." She said and the undead woman nodded in understanding.

"Very well. Your quest is a rather simple one. You shall gather six Niphredil blossoms, eight Elanor stalks, water from the River Celebrant and a vial of your own blood. All of these are needed to make a potion that I believe should be able to revive all of your powers." Lady Galadriel said and then looked behind Zamira and saw something that lit a sparkle in her eyes.

"You shall take my March Warden along with you. He will show you where and what Niphredil and Elanor look like and guide you along the paths to the other items on your agenda." She said and Zamira glanced over her shoulder to see the tall, blonde, Lothlórien elf leaning in the entryway.

"It would be an honor to help you on your quest, Lady Snowfang." Haldir said from his post and half-bowed in her direction.

"If it is your wish that I take the March Warden with me, then I shall, but I request that I am also allowed take two from the Fellowship with me as well?" Zamira asked Lady Galadriel who nodded in acceptance.

"It is your choice; you may take whoever you wish along with you. But the tasks to be performed are for you alone, you can have no help, just companions to spend the time with." The elf-witch stated and then dismissed the female Death Knight and her March Warden with a wave of a pale hand.

Ignoring the elf's presence was harder than Zamira thought possible, since he followed her step by step and his eyes seemed to be permanently attached to her back.

"March Warden, cease your staring, it is annoying." She said coldly, trying to deter the male's attention.

"Forgive me; I was unaware that I was staring at you. I was simply unfocused and thinking about other things." Haldir replied hastily, trying to cover up for the fact that he had indeed been staring at this strange, cold, undead, human woman.

She intrigued him to no end. Not many females, even elven women, were warriors of her supposed caliber. The Lady Galadriel had informed him of this woman's feats that she had seen in the mirror and her visions from the Valar. From what he had heard, even he, an experienced and very mighty opponent, would no doubt be crushed in a one-on-one battle against the Death Knight.

Zamira, now content with the elven male's answer, briskly walked towards the hollows where she planned to ask those of the Fellowship on who would like to accompany her on her quest. She would think that Aragorn and Legolas may volunteer, but she couldn't predict the others' choices.

Coming upon the hollows she strode in and stood in the middle of the small clearing looking around at the members of the Fellowship that were there. Merry and Pippin were once again working on their swordsmanship with Boromir. Aragorn and Legolas seemed to be whispering to one another in a dark corner. Gimli was still fast asleep, but it seemed that someone had lifted him from his earthly bed and placed him on a cot. Frodo and Sam were munching lightly on some food but looked up when they heard her rather heavy footsteps.

"I have a request of two of you, if you so choose you may accompany the March Warden and I on a quest to gather reagents to give me back my full powers. Will anyone volunteer?" Zamira asked the quiet crowd and two hands timidly rose up in the air.

To her surprise it was Merry and Pippin who had volunteered. Zamira nodded to the two Hobbits and quickly glanced over at the blonde, elven March Warden who didn't seem all too happy that they were accompanying them. But no matter he would either get over it or just suffer through the whole journey.

Out of the corner of her glowing, blue eyes she saw a pale hand falling down and realized that had the Hobbits not spoken up so quickly, Legolas would have volunteered. Zamira was a bit disappointed that she would not be able to spend more time with the Elf, whom she found herself gaining a trust in, and an… interest, if one would word it that way.

"March Warden, allow me to grab a few supplies from my bags." She requested and after he nodded she walked briskly to where her cot was and grabbed her enchanted satchel from the covers. She withdrew from its contents Mistrend along with the massive two-handed sword's baldric which she deftly fastened to her back. Though she unsheathed the great, frightening sword not moments later and took a medium sized, crystal vial from her satchel. Pulling the stopper out of the crystalline vial and she set it down gently on the ground and knelt on the dirt.

"Lady Zamira, what are you doing?" Legolas asked from his place, though he stood up and walked over to inquire as to what she was doing.

"I am simply taking the blood sample that Lady Galadriel wants as part of her recipe to make a potion of some sort to return my full powers to me." Zamira stated bluntly and held Mistrend firmly in her right hand. While with her pearly teeth she tugged the sleeve of her dusky purple tunic up to her elbow.

Her deathly pale skin glimmered in the sunlight that seeped through the thick canopy and made her skin seem almost pure white, like freshly fallen snow. Bringing the nearest edge of Mistrend to her forearm, she slashed downward lightly and watched as her skin sliced open easily and her dark blood that was nearly black slowly began to ooze out of the wound.

"By the Valar, what is wrong with your blood?" Legolas cried in shock, as the globules of near black blood dripped loudly and rather slowly into the vial.

"I am one of the undead, Legolas. My body does not need to carry such a watery substance as normal blood. Over time it solidifies somewhat and turns into this kind of consistency. Have you not heard with your own sharp hearing that my heart beat exactly twenty times a minute? While yours and everyone else's beats many times more than that. That is just how my body works." Zamira explained as all those in clearing now stared in a mixture of disgust, awe and shock as her blood slowly flowed into the vial.

About a minute passed and the vial was finally filled. Zamira moved her still oozing arm away and after setting Mistrend lightly on the ground beside her so corked it with her right hand. Opening her satchel, she replaced the vial back into its old spot, though this time filled with her blood. Then she rummaged around and managed to find a Heavy Frostweave Bandage. Taking the shimmering, heavy, light blue strip of cloth she swiftly bound the still open wound using her right hand and teeth only.

She felt the tell tale tingling that she knew meant that the wound was closing right at that moment and in eight seconds the wound would be entirely gone. Standing up from the ground she picked up Mistrend and sheathed it on her back. As she reached to untie the bandage a small hot hand grabbed her own.

"Lady Zamira, you can't take that off yet. Your wound is still new and bleeding." Pippin said as he held her hand as tightly as he could but it was the feeble strength, like that of a young gnome. Shaking the young Hobbits hand off her own she unwrapped the bandage and surveyed the skin beneath it. Her skin was healed without even a single scar left on the surface. Pippin and Merry gasped in surprise and looked questioningly at her.

"This is Frostweave, a type of cloth from my world. When made into bandages it gains healing properties that closes any wound within eight seconds." Zamira stated simply as she held the bloodied bandage away from her and deposited it into the small smoldering fire in the center of the clearing.

Turning to the blonde Warden she nodded and then beckoned for Merry and Pippin to follow them. They set off into the forest, mainly following well trodden paths that were beaten down into the ground. They seemed to be going south from what Zamira's honed survival skills told her. The sun was barely up and little light shone into the forest through the thick canopy, but enough so that the Hobbits who did not possess enhanced eyesight could see well enough.

As they walked calm silence fell over the group. Zamira was gazing idly around taking in the sights of the magnificent forest. Ahead of her Haldir was focused on the trail but without the undead woman knowing he kept glancing back at the pale beauty behind him. Then lastly, on either side of Zamira, the Hobbits walked briskly trying to keep up with the long legged strides of the Death Knight and Warden.

Haldir as he continued to glance back kept noticing new things about the Lady-Commander. Though her skin was pale he could still see faint scars on her skin, they criss-crossed over her face and hands thickly. He was even certain that most of her body carried such scars, thought she was sure to have worn armor in most of her battles. Surely none but an elf could possibly pick up on such blemishes. Surprisingly, instead of marring her beauty it only gave the female Death Knight an almost feral beauty, like a fierce wild cat or wolf that had seen many battles but still fought on.

Haldir was intrigued no doubt, but one could not call it a mortal crush or some sort of kind affection. He was a male, and because of that women with beautiful bodies, like that of the one behind him appealed to him. It was more lust than anything, to have and possess the undead woman for his own. Like what he had heard mortal men call a 'trophy wife'. But the only challenging factor was that should he try to make such a bold move, he doubted that the Death Knight would spare him any sympathy and most likely bodily injure him or even kill him.

Twenty minutes passed this way before Merry and Pippin had had enough. They were sick of the silence and they were certainly sick of the lustful glances from Haldir towards Zamira. They were inquisitive and sneaky Hobbits and knew plenty of miscellaneous secrets about all the Fellowship members. And they were quite sure that Legolas was quite smitten with Zamira. Not that they were about to go and tell her or anything, but the glances from Haldir were beginning to unnerve them.

"Lady Zamira, I have a question." Pippin finally said trying to break the conversational ice. Zamira glanced down to her right with a raised eyebrow and a curious look.

"What is it?" she asked and watched as a thoughtful look passed the young Hobbit's face, and she swore if one could hear the gears in one's brain turning than Pippin's would have been roaring.

"When you first met us, right after we arrived from Rivendell you asked what we were, right?" He asked and Zamira thought back and nodded to the inquisitive Hobbits. She did recall asking them what they were, since she had no idea. At first she had thought they were Gnomes, but they had oddly shaped pointed ears and extremely large and hairy feet.

"Well I was wondering, at first what did you think we were?" Pippin asked and looked up at the towering Death Knight since he only came up to about her stomach.

"At first glance I thought you were some sort of deformed Gnome. They're a race from my world that is the same height as you and you look very similar, minus ears and feet." She said and Pippin seemed even more curious now.

"What are they like?" Merry asked, beating his friend and cousin to the punch.

"I know very little of Gnomes but I can tell you a little bit. They are short, about the same height as you Hobbits. Their hair colors are outlandish and wildly styled with colors like pink, light blue, silvery blue, white, silvery blonde, green, red and a more normal shade of brown. They are a very social race; I myself have met many and talked amongst them. A few even tried to get me into their hobby of engineering, but I prefer the hard labor of blacksmithing. Gnomes had a natural affinity for technology. They can create flying machines, underwater vessels and so much more. They are quite a fascinating race." Zamira said as she looked back and forth between the Hobbits and completely ignored the Warden's presence, though he too was listening closely.

"They sound so interesting. I wish I could go to your world one day." Pippin said with a wistful expression on his young face.

"If the opportunity ever arises I will indeed attempt to bring you to my world to visit. I have a feeling you would like it very much. Even though it is wrought with peril and danger." She said and saw the hopeful sparkle in the Hobbits' eyes.

Before them the path came to an abrupt end and before them a medium sized river that was flowing swiftly lay. Zamira cast a questioning glance towards Haldir who nodded.

"This is the River Celebrant. Take your water sample for Lady Galadriel." He said stiffly and then looked pointedly away and his face seemed clouded over with emotions that Zamira could not read. Since it seemed like he was immersed in thinking she pulled the second empty vial from her satchel and knelt at the river's edge. As she was filling the vial with the water which didn't take too long but just long enough she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat to get another's attention. Looking around she met the gray eyes of the Warden.

"I have a question, Lady Snowfang." Haldir said from his place off to the side as he glanced over his shoulders.

"Yes? What is it, Warden?" Zamira asked, wary of the elf's look and his demeanor which was giving off more than simple and innocent curiosity.

"You're accent is not that of a human from our world, yet you speak Westron like it was your own language. I can't help but wonder what other tongues your capable mouth is able to speak." He said, more as a statement than a question. Zamira narrowed her eyes since her mind had caught the sexual undertone to his statement.

"Indeed, I do know many languages. I have had need to know many to communicate with my subordinates." She said and then frowned when an expression on the Warden's nearly angelic face seemed to beg her to prove herself.

"You ask for a demonstration?" She hissed out, her distrust of the elf rising ever farther.

"Yes, I do." He responded simply with a determined and set look on his face with a curiosity and other mixed emotions storming chaotically in his eyes.

_"Bal'a dash, malanore. Al diel shala. (Greetings, Traveler. Safe travels.)"_ Zamira spewed out randomly, not really caring what she said. Though she longed to say something a bit more violent and hateful, like the phrases that Koltira Deathweaver had taught her.

"What language was that? It definitely sounds like some form of elvish." Merry asked curiously. Zamira nodded in agreement.

"Yes, it is an elvish language. It's called Thalassian, and is spoken by most High Elves, Half-High Elves, Blood Elves and Half-Blood Elves. I was taught it by a fellow commander and friend of mine." She said and then glanced over at the blonde Warden to see if he was satisfied with her brief demonstration. It seemed that he was not because he had a sort of 'go on' look upon his face.

"You desire for me to speak more?" Zamira asked, keeping her tone of voice cool and clipped, while still remaining polite at least. Her voice was like the timbre of steel clashing upon steel, though also it seemed that it was two women with chilling and frightening voices speaking in disharmonious unison. Her real voice came through first with what could be called an echo following right after.

"Yes. These languages fascinate me, as does your world. I, too, would not mind being able to visit it one day." Haldir spoke honestly, since deep down hiding behind the lust for the undead woman he was naturally curious about her world, and the soft melodious language that had just flowed from her grey colored lips.

"Very well. _**Elune-Adore. Ande'thoras-ethil. (Elune be with you. May your troubles be diminished.)**_ That was Darnassian, the language of Night Elves." Zamira said letting the liquid-like language flow of her tongue, but it sounded a bit less fluid due to her undead timbre.

"That sounded very pretty, Lady Zamira. Do you know any others?" Pippin asked, since he too was now very curious to these unfamiliar languages that this scary-looking woman was now speaking in.

"Yes. I know many languages. I know two others… Taur-ahe and Orcish." She said and heard a scoff. Turning her head she saw Haldir with a disgusted look in his face.

"The language of Orcs is a disgusting and brutish language. Why would you waste your time to learn it?" He asked, his tone of voice was still disgusted and nearly unbelieving.

"The Orcs of my world are not nearly as brutish and gruesome as yours are. They are an honorable race with an interesting culture and I will not take any slandering of their name in my presence. I know many Orcs, and have acquaintances amongst them." Zamira said bluntly and watched Haldir's face change to a sort of acceptance, but somehow she could see that it was merely a mask hiding his disgust.

"Of course, it was wrong of me to assume that your Orcs were the same as ours. Finish taking your sample we need to start heading north to Cerin Amroth, where you can gather the Niphredil blossoms and Elanor stalks." Haldir said and walked slowly back to the path while Zamira corked the vial filled with the water from the Celebrant. After placing the vial back in her satchel she rose from the river bank and made to follow after the retreating blonde elf. Merry and Pippin scurried after her, taking their places walking on either side of her.

"Lady Zamira if you don't mind could you say some things on those other languages as well?" Pippin asked and Zamira nodded, succumbing to the innocent smile on the young Hobbits face.

**"Bin mog g'thazag cha. (I will protect you.)** That was Orcish, the language of the main race of the Horde led by their Warchief, Thrall. **Nechi ich towateke ki hale chi, Merry and Pippin. Pawene ichnee pawene. (Peace and patience be with you, Merry and Pippin. Remain strong as always.)** And that was Taur-ahe, the native tongue of the Tauren, a race of humanoid cows." Zamira said and heard a muffled chuckle and looked ahead to find Haldir on the verge of laughter. She scowled and narrowed her eyes.

"What humor do you find in that, Warden?" She asked harshly and the laughter stopped, but humor still glittered in his gray eyes.

"Just trying to imagine what a Tauren looks like." He said bluntly and snickered from behind one of his hands.

"You are lucky to not be in my world, Elf. I know many Tauren that would skin you like an animal for even smiling humorously at them." Zamira said harshly and smiled wickedly for a brief moment. In her mind she was imagining the bloody ordeal that Atepa Darkthorn, a particularly cruel Tauren hunter who was also one of her closer living acquaintances, would do to the elf before her. She imagined that he would probably let loose his Vilewing Chimaera on him. It brought her a bloody pleasure to visualize the two spiked and alien-like heads ripping a body apart chunk by chunk.

Seeing her smile Haldir decided that he had taken it too far and wisely stopped his ridiculous actions. Silence overlapped the group and they made the brisk half hour trip northwards towards Cerin Amroth. They reached the hill and the silence still permeated the group so Zamira went about her business and picked the white blossoms that Haldir had pointed out as Niphredil and the stalks that were from pale gold, star-shaped flowers, named Elanor.

Their journey back to Caras Galadhon was quick and the young Hobbits had to jog at the fast pace the elvish Warden had set for them. It was about a few hours passed the midday meal and it was obvious to all four that Merry and Pippin were quite hungry. A particularly loud stomach growl was heard and Zamira glanced to her right and saw a red faced Pippin who was looking at his stomach while jogging.

"I am so hungry." He moaned and then glanced over at Merry who's stomach had just growled as well.

"Me too, Pip." He said.

"When we get back within the city limits feel free to just run back to the camp and eat." Zamira said and they both shot her a grateful look.

Once they were within the city the Hobbits shot off like bullets and wove hastily between the commuting elves. Zamira watched them go and then hurried after Haldir who was leading her back to Celeborn and Galadriel's tree-Palace. The doors were wide open and the ruling pair was sitting quietly at a small table eating their midday meal. As the death Knight and Warden walked through the door they looked up from their food and drinks and Galadriel smiled happily.

"You have returned promptly. I had expected your journey to take more time. But nevertheless I will take the ingredients now." Galadriel said as she rose from her chair and opened her hands. Opening her satchel Zamira retrieved the two vials, one filled with the crystal clear water of the River Celebrant and the other seemingly filled with an inky liquid that was actually the nearly black and congealed blood of the undead woman. As she handed the vials to Galadriel she watched as the elf-queen looked peculiarly at the blood vial and motioned with her hand for her husband to join her in looking at it. The male elf rose from his chair and joined his wife in staring at the vial.

"This is your blood?" He asked and Zamira nodded stiffly.

"If I may ask, how did it become this way?" Galadriel asked curiously.

"After my death my body lacks the urgent need to supply blood to the rest of my body so it ceases to flow in the way a living creature's would. It darkens and solidifies to a gel-like consistency such as that, and only changes when a Death Knight activates a Blood Rune, which quickens the blood flow to heal injuries to the flesh quickly." Zamira explained and the two elves nodded in understanding but still looked at the blood curiously.

Placing the two vials down on the table behind her, Galadriel extended her hand for the blossoms and stalks which Zamira gave to her quickly and then waited as she set those too on the table. Turning her cornflower blue eyes on the undead woman, Galadriel met the glowing, ever-cold gaze on Zamira and nodded in a satisfied manner.

"Thank you for being so quick with your gathering. The potion should be completed by tomorrow morning. Until then I suggest you rest and amuse yourself with whatever you please, Lady-Commander." She said. Taking that a dismissal, Zamira bowed at the waist and walked out of the tree-Palace, walking down the stairs briskly.

She heard quick and feather-light footsteps behind her and spun around with her right hand wrapped around Mistrend's hilt in preparation. Behind her was a surprised Haldir, whose gray eyes were quickly flicking back and forth between Zamira's face and her pale hand wrapped around the hilt of her Runeblade.

"I thought I might escort you back to your camp. If I may?" he asked and Zamira, not really caring at all, nodded stiffly. Turning back around, she headed down the path that would lead her to the clearing camp of the Fellowship. It was a full five minute walk back to the camp, but only two minutes down the path, when thick tree trunks hid the path from most watching eyes, Zamira felt a burning hot hand on her upper arm that caught her off guard.

With a swift yank backwards the Death Knight felt her balance waver as the hand and its strength spun her around completely. She barely caught the flash of gray and ash blonde before she felt two hot lips plant themselves upon her own. She met the passionate grey-eyed gaze of Haldir, who apparently was kissing her. She didn't do anything. Even when his lips and the tip of his tongue attempted to get her to respond she remained still. Her gray lips firmly kept together and her face expressionless.

Unbeknownst to the two there was a streak of silver and pale blonde in the trees around them as an embarrassed and angered Legolas fled from the scene. He had been peacefully strolling and pondering over his thoughts of the Death Knight.

He found her so interesting, but he was nearly positive he was attracted to her. But she was so unapproachable. Her very presence screams 'I AM A KILLING MACHINE!' and it scared him a lot, but she was so unnaturally beautiful, like an elf but different at the same time. Though also he felt that somewhere deep beneath her cold and hard exterior there was a very enchanting woman that he would love to love one day if possible.

But then he had seen a brief flash of a horrifying scene that at first made him embarrassed for seeing such a private moment and then rage that the Lorien March Warden was getting what he wanted. In his rage and embarrassment he never opened his eyes to see the undead woman's lack of response before he dashed away back to the campsite.

Meanwhile as Haldir pulled away with an expectant look Zamira felt a woman's fury build up in her mind and she swung her right hand as strongly as she could and slapped the blond elf right across the face. His head snapped to the side with the strength behind the slap and he stumbled backwards but his retreat was not far enough and the female Death Knight set upon him like an Amazonian warrior.

Her ungloved hands, that had the hardness of ice and the cold, biting feel of snow, smashed into his perfect angelic face with a resounding crack. But that was the only hit that the elf received as Zamira retreated away with a furious expression on her pale face. Haldir was now curled up on his side cradling his now broken nose with both hands with a small stream of bright red blood flowing between his fingers.

"Don't even try anything like that again, Warden." She hissed out and briskly power-walked the rest of the way into the camp.

She flew through the camp, grabbed an apple from the leftover lunch table and strode back to the edge of the camp. She unbuckled Mistrend's baldric from her back and then sat with her back against a large tree trunk. She untied her black leather satchel and opened the flap and pulled her Titansteel plate armor out piece by piece and fixed as much as she could without the use of a forge.

She smoothed out some scratches and evened out uneven edges. She took out her whetstone and began sharpening Mistrend. The rough, grating noise was not only smoothing out the blade of her Runeblade but soothing her frazzled nerves over the Warden's kiss. It had messed up her emotional wall and she felt confused. This was so different than how Darion had come to her. He had taken her in a vicious struggle of passion and violence. Sure there was kissing but it was raw and rough and that was all she could understand well enough to make sense of.

Hours passed this way until the evening meal came about and Zamira stopped her mending to take a bit of warm food and drink back to her tree. She kept thinking and then as twilight set upon the forest and sent the forest floor into semi-darkness she saw Frodo wandering off into the trees.

Both curious and wary of what the young brown haired Hobbit was up to, she rose from her spot under the tree and moved into the woods before any others of the Fellowship could see her leave. She followed after the Hobbit as silently as she could, but stealth but not exactly in the list of trades a Death Knight, or even a Paladin excelled at. She followed him and then noticed a figure wreathed in white ahead of him, who he seemed to be following after. Squinting her eyes she realized that the white figure that seemed to be gliding across the dew covered grass was Lady Galadriel.

They all traveled down a set of long and winding stairs that were dug out of the soft earth and lined with stones. Here and there a silvery lantern gave off a soft white glow that illuminated the few feet around it. There seemed to be an enclosed clearing separated from the rest of the expanse by a wall built down from a fallen tree. The stairs went between two statues of beautiful elf woman carrying dishes that burned sweet smelling oil continuously. Galadriel went down those stairs and seemed to look through an archway in the wall before walking over to a basin and filling a large metal pitcher with water that fell down a small cascade.

Frodo followed after her while Zamira remained in the darkness of the trees from above the clearing still atop of the stair. Her darkly clad figure blended into the shadows well but her glowing blue eyes burned through the darkness and were clearly visible.

Galadriel turned with her pitcher in hand and caught Frodo's gaze with an unchanging face. Her hair was left down and fell in waving ripples down to her hips. Frodo walked to the other side of the clearing, closer to the wall and met her stare.

"Will you look into the mirror?" Galadriel asked simply and bluntly.

"What will I see?" Frodo asked in return, wary of the silver basin in the middle of the clearing on a stone pedestal and of the elf-queen who still gazed at him with her own blue eyes.

"Even the wisest cannot tell. For the mirror shows many things." She replied and poured the pitcher full of water into the basin.

"Things that were… Things that are… And some things… that have not yet come to pass." She said as the pitcher became empty and she set the pitcher down to the grassy ground.

Frodo seemed to make his decision and approached the mirror. He stepped up to it and raised himself up onto the pedestal's base since his height was too short to bend over the mirror correctly. As he gazed over the mirror Zamira leaned forward and strained her ears to see if she could possibly hear anything else. Frodo's demeanor seemed to change and his fingers gripped the pedestal's edge tightly. Zamira worrying for the young Hobbit jogged out of the darkness and down the stairs to try and pull him away from the mirror. As she neared Galadriel shot her a look that told her to not interfere and the Death Knight faltered in her charge.

Frodo reached up and placed his hand over his chest and fell backwards but Zamira rushed forward and caught him in her arm and set him upright on his feet. Glancing upwards she saw that the mirror was smoking and she looked at the elf-queen inquisitively. Her look received no answer for Galadriel's focus was upon a recovering Frodo.

"I know what it is you saw. For it is also in my mind." Galadriel said and then her gaze intensified and Zamira took a guess that she was telling the Hobbits something within the privacy of his own mind. After a few moments Frodo shrugged out of the undead woman's grip and extended his enclosed hand to Galadriel and uncurled his fingers. Nestled in his pink palm was the whispering Ring, who's subtle and seductive call was already attempting to weave its way into her mind. But she resisted and focused on the current exchange between the elf-queen and the young Hobbit.

"You offer it to me freely." She said with a curious look that faded into something more possessive and longing as she began to take small strides towards Frodo.

"I do not deny that my heart has greatly desired this." She whispered almost to herself as she approached but them an aura of evil descended on the elf woman. Zamira placed herself quickly between Frodo and Galadriel and was cursing herself for not bringing her Runeblade with her.

"In place of a Dark Lord you would have a queen, not dark but beautiful and terrible as the dawn! Treacherous as the sea! Stronger than the foundations of the earth! All shall love me and despair!" Galadriel yelled as the darkness and evil changed her visage. In the dark aura surrounding her, her hair turned snow white and her skin darkened to an odd shade and her eyes were as dark as pitch. Wind kicked up powerfully and sent her long, wavy hair flying wildly in the air.

But just as soon as the darkness had come, it vanished and the aura along with it. Galadriel's natural white light returned and she seemed tired, like the episode had taken much strength from her. Zamira eyed her warily and kept her body placed firmly between the elf-witch and the Hobbit.

"I pass the test. I will diminish, and go into the West and remain Galadriel." She said, pretty much to herself but audibly so that they both could hear her clear as day. Frodo strode out from behind the Death Knight and looked pleadingly at the elven woman.

"I cannot do this alone." Frodo said still begging with his expression and voice for help. Zamira feeling that Frodo was safer now backed away and leaned herself against the stone wall and listened.

"You are a Ring-Bearer, Frodo. To bear a Ring of Power is to be alone." She said and then raised her right hand, on which a silvery ring glimmered in the strong moonlight that pierced the canopy.

"This is Nenya, the Ring of Adamant. And I am its keeper. This task was appointed to you. And if you do not find a way, no one will." Galadriel said bluntly.

"Then I know what I must do." Frodo stated with a face that showed that he had just experienced some sort of epiphany.

"It's just… I'm afraid to do it." Frodo continued as he looked shamefully at the ground. Galadriel, who still stood close to Frodo, leaned over and looked him in the eyes.

"Even the smallest person can change the course of the future." She said caringly and Frodo closed his still open fingers over the Ring and placed it in his pocket for the time being. Bowing towards the elf-queen and then nodding in recognition to Zamira he scurried back up the stairs and down the path towards the camp.

Turning her glowing eyes back to the elven woman she met the cornflower blue gaze and then glanced at the mirror.

"Do you too wish to gaze into the mirror?" Galadriel asked curiously with a subtle smile on her face.

"I think I will. I am intrigued as to what sort of visions I may see while looking into it." Zamira said and approached the pedestal while Galadriel took the mirror basin and emptied the water from its silvery prison. She then filled the pitcher once more and poured the water into the basin.

"Go ahead, Death Knight. Gaze." She said and Zamira leaned over the water and peered into its depths. For a moment the water did nothing but then as if another droplet had fell into its embrace a ripple spread and the water showed an image.

It was a familiar face that she had only seen once before but a few months ago in Rivendell. It was her Paladin self. Mumbles could be heard in the background and her former self seemed to be listening intently. Focusing in her face, Zamira now saw that her eyes had once been a warm shade of brown and her face kind and soft looking. The ripples returned and changed the image.

Before her now was a bloody, snow covered field. Everywhere ghouls, abominations and banshees scrounged amongst the dead. The abominations and ghouls just devoured everything they could find while the banshees gloated over the corpses of the ones they themselves had slain. Off to the side sitting on a massive warhorse sat a large armor clad figure. The horse had bluish, leathery skin and its eyes were like burning blue coals. Its thick body was also plated in armor and stretching out from its sides were two massive bat-like wings of the same colored leathery skin.

The rider's helmeted head only let the gazer see that the man's hair color was silver and his eyes were a glowing shade of cobalt blue. Immediately Zamira knew who this way and she hissed in anger and if she could she would leap through the mirror and strangle that man.

It was Arthas Menethil, the Lich King. Zamira remembered this it was her first battle as a newly risen Death Knight and Arthas had wanted to witness it personally. In front of his warhorse three initiates knelt in the scarlet snow. One was a troll with vibrant green hair that was slowly but surely turning a silvery white. The next was a male Night Elf with dark blue hair and thick beard on his face. Lastly on the far right side was her, ink black hair concealed by a hood, unlike the men who had pulled theirs back.

"You have done well, Death Knights. You have passed the test and survived through your first battle. I am personally impressed with your efforts, Zamira." Arthas said and cast a nearly lecherous glance towards her but as his servant she had not noticed it or not cared.

"Thank you, my King. It always our duty to do your bidding." She had replied in a chilling voice that was completely submissive to his every will. Then the image faded as another ripple disturbed the scene.

Zamira remembered this too it was the first time Darion had approached her after they had been freed. His armor clad body that she knew was pure rippling muscle was briskly striding down the halls of The Ebon Hold.

"Commander Snowfang, may I have a word?" He asked. His clipped tone cutting through the silence that usually permeated the halls.

"Yes. What is it, Highlord?" She answered and Zamira watched knowledgably as the Highlord came up to her and without even a word spoke shoved her through the open door nearest to them and proceeded to have sex with her for the first time. At that time it was not possible to call it 'making love' since love was not something most Death Knights were capable of feeling. Though now Zamira doubted that. The ripples come once more and the scene changed to a fiery scene.

*WARNING EXPLICIT CONTENT*

The room was dark and a fire was roaring on the eastern wall. In the center of the room was a large bed covered in black sheets, blankets and pillows. The scene zoomed in and Zamira saw her body covered in blackened burns and her ankles and wrists bonded by ropes to all four bedposts. Her body was sprawled over the sheet and completely naked. Over her a large and dark man loomed his black hair hanging like a curtain around their close faces and his darkly tanned body hovering over her own. His sex was proudly displayed and stood stiff and erect since obviously this situation had pleasured him and made his blood rush.

"Say my name." He demanded softly but Zamira saw herself shaking her head and her glowing blue eyes narrowed hatefully at the man above her.

"Say it." He said louder with more force as he reached a hand out and roughed up one of her large breast with a calloused hand that made her squirm under him.

"No, you bastard-born demon!" She hissed out and tried to move one of her legs in an attempt to knee him.

"If you won't say it then I'll just make you scream it." He whispered darkly and lowered himself upon her further, aligning himself with her paled entrance.

Zamira could see the fear in her still open eyes. Even during her time with Darion if she had said no he backed off and she was certain she would have known if she had ever been raped before. So this experience must have been something that she, deep down, actually feared. Finding herself powerless and in the complete control of a brutal man. Without warning he snapped his hips forward and a scream ripped it way out of her throat.

"SAURON!" She screamed and Zamira actually felt her real self's legs shaking slightly, which had never happened before.

*ALRIGHT YOU CAN ALL SIGH IN RELIEF IT BE OVER*

The ripples once again changed the water's image and in the dark and horrifying scene's place and a bright and sunny setting took its place. It seemed as though Zamira was back to being a Paladin and she sat on a stone bench holding a cooing child in her arms. Her brown eyes looked up and fastened on someone she could not see.

"It's about time you got out of that meeting. Calion has been asking for you non-stop since you left." She said and into view stepped a familiar blonde wreathed face.

Legolas strode over lightly and took a gentle seat beside her and looked down into the small child's plump face. A fine dusting of silver blonde hair was sprouting from the child's skull and deep, warm brown eyes sparkled in their sockets.

"I am sorry. It took me longer than expected; my father seems very set on keeping me away from you and our son. He just doesn't understand our love." He said and the scene faded and the water became clear once again.

Zamira backed away from the mirror and looked up at Galadriel who looked like she usually did with a calm smile on her face.

"And the significance of what I just saw was…?" The Death Knight asked while the last two scenes played over and over inside her mind.

"As I said to Frodo… What you saw was what has happened in the past, possibly the present and also the future outcomes depending on how certain events play out." She said and Zamira furrowed her thin eyebrows in confusion.

"Very well, I have to go now and think about what I have seen." Zamira said and she bowed to Galadriel who nodded back and turned to return to the camp.

"Rest well, Zamira Snowfang." The elf-queen said as she too walked away to take her rest.

**Alright peoples this is the end of Chapter Ten. Got a little action, got a little conflict/plotline and KA-BOOM we have LIGHTNING! Not really but I wish it happened that way. Leave reviews they make me feel awesome on the inside! Had a little help on this chapter since I was smacked repeatedly in the face by writers block and lack of inspiration. So thanks from everybody who reads this and me to Ravenmaster7, whom I will miss bunches because she is now at college!**

**READ AND REVIEW YOU LOTR AND WOW LOVERS OUT THERE! ^-^ (by the way this is a kitty face)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: The long awaited (by at least one or two people) Chapter Eleven of Eternal Undeath. With no real reason to waste anymore of your time, since I know for a fact that about only 10% of readers actually look at this, I'll just skip ahead to the necessary things.**

**Dedications: This chapter is dedicated to all of you who reviewed on Chapter 10: Sharnorasian Empire (naturally), Daval Prestor (the Aspect of Death himself) and superZODAMnova. But actually for once I plan on responding to said reviews, well for those of you who asked questions or gave HELPFUL criticism, but simple comments about quality, writing and stuff like that will not be replied to:**

**-Sharnorasian Empire: Thank you for the compliment and yeah I always seem to write exceedingly long chapters, but that's just how I roll.**

**-Daval Prestor: Hellz no! It was merely an inspiration of what could possibly happen if everything goes ka-put.**

**-superZODAMnova: Indeed, a (possible) son; and Haldir will merely be a jealous butt-face but then get over it.**

**Now back to Disclaimers/Claimers and all that ridiculousness:**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from LotR and all such things belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and all his affiliates. I also do not lay claim to anything from World of Warcraft which is the sole property of Blizzard Entertainment.**

**Claimer: I do seek to enforce the fact that I own Zamira, all OCs and anything else that you do not recognize from LotR or WoW.**

**Enjoy Chapter 11 of Eternal Undeath!**

The night was still dark when Zamira plopped herself under a tree, which she was certain to have been the one from before because Mistrend lay abandoned in the soft and loose soil. Picking up the Runeblade, Zamira lightly ran her pale fingers down the broad side of the blade and traced over the runes with her fingernails that were rather short for a woman's.

Soft footsteps wrenched her from her pondering and she saw Legolas peering down at her with a determined expression. Without her consent he sat cross-legged in front of her and fixed their blue gazes together.

"Can I help you, Legolas?" Zamira asked. Her voice sounding distant since most of her mind was still wondering about the meanings behind the mirror's tale.

"So how was it?" He asked in a quiet voice so as to not disturb those who slumbered peacefully. But his tone was sharp, harsh and angry with a subtle hint of pure, green jealousy.

"How was what?" Zamira asked. Her voice still rather distant, but her attention was becoming more focused on the fuming blonde elf before her.

"Your lovely kiss with the March Warden?" He sneered and Zamira's gray lips twitched downwards.

"I can assume that you witnessed that?" She asked and attempted to keep her cool, since her emotions were already frayed from the brutal visions she had seen in the mirror.

"Yes. I'm sure it was a marvelous experience for…" He began to say but she cut his furious rant short.

"What you saw was completely one sided. Haldir did that of his own will, and he paid for it." Zamira said bluntly and saw the fury drain from Legolas' eyes as quickly as he had arrived earlier.

"Oh." Was all he could say as he sat there staring at her rather dumbly. Then a faint pink tinge crept up his neck and flowed all the way to the tips of his pointed ears.

"Forgive my rudeness, then. I do not know what came over me." Legolas said, nearly stumbling over his words as the pink tinge that showed in the dim moonlight strengthened.

"No matter, I am not offended." She stated in an off-handed manner, resisting the urge to wave her hand in a dismissing manner.

"I am glad I have no seriously offended you. If I had I would be given good reason to fear for my life." Legolas said, chuckling in a nervous manner. Zamira's eyes widened subtly and she was shocked that such response was coming from one of her allies. Then she realized that the battle of dislike between her and the mortal Lord of Gondor had not exactly set the Fellowship's trust in her very high.

"There would have been no need to fear for anything. Even if it had offended me I would not have taken action in a physical manner. I know that my behavior towards Lord Boromir has caused fear amongst you all, but I would never act out in such a manner." Zamira said as she fell into a soldier's mentality. Even if two soldiers hated one another they wouldn't just kill each other since that would bring their forces down two good, able-bodied men.

"Oh no, I did not mean it that way. I trust you with my life, Lady Zamira. I was just stating that if one were to be on your bad side life would not have a bright outlook for them. That is what I truly fear." He said and Zamira felt her lips quirk upwards slightly before falling back into their usual straight manner.

"Well if that was all, I too have a few questions for you. Most of the Fellowship has been asking questions of my life and world, but I am equally curious about your own." Zamira said as she fulfilled one of the top most priorities on her mind. She had been wondering about the lives of her companions and the world which she now found herself fighting to protect.

"Ask away. I shall withhold no secrets from you." Legolas said and Zamira sighed inside her mind.

"You claim to be an elf, and here I find myself in a city filled with elves. But this is not your home, is it? If I may ask, in which part of this world do you make your sanctuary?" Zamira asked and an elated feeling flowed through Legolas' eyes which until then had been filled with embarrassment and a slight trace of fear.  
"I live on the other side of the Misty Mountains in a great forest called Mirkwood. It used to be called Greenwood the Great but when the evil tyranny of Sauron touched our borders it fell into a murky darkness. There I lived as the Prince of the Wood Elves and helped my father King Thranduil run the land." Legolas said and Zamira nodded in understanding. She had looked at a few maps when she was in Rivendell and had seen that Mirkwood was a great forested expanse of land that was along the northern sections of the Misty Mountains.

"What of your family? Your father is the King, but what of your mother? Siblings? Lovers?" Zamira asked and felt a pink-prick of curiosity on the last question. She did not understand why she would feel curious about the blonde elf's possible lovers. They were no matter to her, so why was she interesting in them?

"My mother was a beautiful _ellith_ that my father fell in love with many thousands of years ago, but she was struck down with a poisoned arrow from a bandit group of Orcs and faded. My remaining relative on this land is just my father, though I have many friends." Legolas said and the pink tinge came back and crept up his neck.

"What of your bed-companions? Have you no significant other?" Zamira asked, nearly feeling her throat close partially as the curiosity came back at full force. She knew now that it was in relation to the final vision she had witnessed in the mirror.

"No, I have no lover. I have been alone in that respect for all of my life. My father has often tried to match me with _ellith_ from around the land but I have found none to my liking." Legolas said quietly through his blush and glanced up through his pale eyelashes at the stoic Death Knight leaning on the tree before him.

Zamira gave away no external response to the young elf's admittance to being single and unclaimed. But in the inside the most emotional part of her being that was locked away in a tight corner seemed to struggle against its bonds and leap for joy.

"I see. Thank you, Prince Legolas. I must retire now; slumber seems to have finally caught up with me." Zamira lied and rose from the ground with Mistrend firmly in her right hand's grip.

"Your very welcome, Lady Zamira. Before you go, I have a… umm…question as well." Legolas said as he stumbled upon his words near the end as the pink tinge rose once again and made the tips of his pointed ears flared a bright red.

"Yes?" Zamira asked and waited patiently for the elf to ask his question.

"D-do… you… ha-have one?" He asked, stuttering lightly and the blush reddening his face.

"One what?" The Death Knight asked, though she was pretty sure of what the elf was getting at.

"A lover?" He spat out quickly and then turned his head to the side quickly, attempting to hide the strong blush that liberally coated his neck, cheeks and ears.

Zamira pondered the question for a moment. Could her relationship with Darion have made them lovers, or just bed-partners for when the other felt stressed out.

"No." Zamira stated as she came to her conclusion. Her relationship with Darion was over; it would go nowhere now that she had made her choice. Anyway the mirror had not shown her a future with the Highlord, so it was not likely that there was going to be one.

She heard the elf sigh and then after nodding her head in respect and farewell she walked as quietly as she could over to her cot. She did not change her clothes but simply took off her boots and belt before lying down with Mistrend cradled in her arms. Sleep took her quickly, the stress of the day or more appropriately the last few hours had made her mind exhausted and her body sore from the strain of it all.

The faint chirping of birds woke her from her sleep as Zamira rose from her cot and glanced around. A few of the Fellowship were still asleep, including Gimli, Sam, Frodo and Boromir. But the rest were up and munching away at the table on which a large breakfast spread had been laid out. Bowls of fruits and vegetables lined the table from end to end and amongst them were the few plates of steaming grains and warmed sweetmeats. Pitchers of juices, water and a light, watered down mead were also there.

Rising from the sheets, Zamira stood up and loosened her sleep-stiffened muscles. Her joints cracked and the Death Knight was surprised by the overall feeling of contentment that was flowing through her congealed veins. Her body was well rested and her mind was working clearly and smoothly.

From her satchel she grabbed a new pair of breeches and a tunic and made her way barefooted to the small, curtained off, changing alcove that she had been shown by the female elves when she had first arrived. After changing into the dark grayish-blue tunic and the pair of charcoal gray breeches she ran her pale, calloused fingers through her thick, ink black lock and fought out some of the tangles.

Feeling pleased with her appearance that reflected in a plate of silver backed glass she walked back out and sat down in an empty chair at the table.

"Good morning, Lady Zamira!" Merry and Pippin called from their end and the undead woman nodded in recognition at them. She turned her eyes to Aragorn and Legolas, who were whispering amongst themselves and saw the silver and sky blue eyes turn her way as if they felt her gaze.

Giving them matching nods, Zamira dug into a plate of thinly sliced wild boar or something that tasted extremely like wild boar and some cubed fruits. She poured herself a goblet of the light mead and took a precautionary sip. It tasted wonderful so she chugged down the rest like a Dwarf would and then ate her food.

As she finished her food she saw a figure in white approaching the camp and squinted at it. It was Lady Galadriel who had a bright smile on her face. The elf-queen's cornflower blue eyes locked onto Zamira's glowing blue eyes and the smile grew, if possible, even brighter.

"Commander Snowfang, your potion is ready." Galadriel said as she withdrew a medium-sized crystal vial from within her gown. The vial was filled three quarters of the way with a fizzing, bluish-black liquid.

"Oh! That means that Lady Zamira is going to get all her powers back, right?" Pippin asked loudly and Galadriel nodded and Zamira rose from her chair.

"I feel it may be necessary for me to leave the city. In my world great amount of power are normal and the land is used to such vast energies. I have a feeling that your world is not used to such powers and I would hate for your city to pay a price for such a thing." Zamira said as she extended her hand for the vial, which the blonde, Elven queen gave to her.

"I agree. That would be a wise choice on your part." Galadriel said and Zamira went back to her cot and began withdrawing her armor from her satchel. She quickly buckled on the plate armor and fastened her baldric on before sheathing Mistrend on her back. She left her tabard off and then placed the vial into her satchel before she tied it to her belt. Turning back around she met the curious and worried pairs of eyes that were watching her.

"I should return before the sun reaches its zenith." She said simply and briskly jogged down the path that she knew would lead her outside the city.

As she ran by she met the frightened gazes of many elves and grinned. She would not deny that regaining her full powers was truly an exciting thing for her and the fear of the elves was just an added bonus. She was sick of feeling weak and powerless and the terror and wariness on their delicate faces brought her cold, nearly dead heart a sadistic form of joy. The Death Knight's long strides carried her out of Caras Galadhon within half an hour and she trekked for another ten before she felt comfortable with her distance from the city.

Standing next to a large tree, Zamira brought the vial out of her satchel and pulled the stopper out. The potion was making a hissing noise that had been muffled by the cork but it was now audible. Looking at the liquid warily she sniffed it and found nothing offensive to her nose and then brought the glass rim to her gray lips. Opening her mouth she poured the potion down her throat and didn't stop until the final drop had left the vial and was now flowing into her body.

The vial dropped and landed with a muted thump on the leaf and glass covered ground as the Death Knight sank to her knees. An icy fire was running through her veins. This was nothing like the clear potion that the elf-witch had sent her before; this was thousands of times more potent. Never had the undead woman known how much of her power was gone before it all came flowing back to her.

All around her a good three inches of solid ice formed over the ground and storm clouds rolled in out of nowhere and let flakes of unwanted snow fall to the floor of Lorien. Snow now falling and ice laying the ground and bed of frost spread out from the ice plate under the Death Knight and spread rapidly. The temperature dropped nearly fifteen degrees and the elves of Lorien ran for more clothing as their breath turned to white mist in the cold air.

Zamira, from her kneeling position had a wide, sadistic grin on her face as she faded in and out of consciousness. She then shook her head and rose slowly from the ground. The nipping wind bit at her pale skin and she opened her eyes from their squinted form. Her iris, pupil and sclera were now completely blended into one color, a vibrant cobalt blue that gave off a thick fog of bluish smoke.

Drawing her Vampiric Runeblade from its baldric she gazed at the runes that now rippled with blue fire and gave off a similar smoke. A maniacal chuckle formed in her chest and began to crawl its way upwards.

The chuckle slowly but surely evolved into full blown, crazed laughter. The laughs echoed all around the nearby forest. Zamira laughed and laughed, until her lungs began to ache from the exertion. The crazed laughter was another habit from her evil-doing days that she had not yet managed to rid herself of. Calming herself down she flexed her muscles and was pleased to feel the icy caress of her runic power that flowed through her body at all times.

Her eyes widened when she realized that she could probably now summon her mounts. She waved her right hand over the ground and nearly squealed like a little girl when the thick, gray, scentless smoke appeared and then faded away. Zamira rushed forward and embraced her Acherus Deathcharger and lovingly stroked the chilled, velvety black fur.

Oblivion nickered in greeting, the sound sounding just like the metallic echo of a Death Knight's voice. He nudged his master on her plate covered shoulder, since he too had missed her greatly. His hooves that were wreathed in glowing whitish-blue energy shifted and the leather and metal on his tack clinked in the forest's silence.

"My friend, I have missed you much." Zamira mumbled into the thin fur and stroked the soft but cold flesh around her Deathcharger's glowing blue eyes. Oblivion neighed in return and the undead woman sheathed her Runeblade and then swung up into the saddle.

"Hya!" Zamira cried as she snapped the black leather reigns and tapped her Deathcharger's sides. Oblivion sprung forward and they were galloping back towards the city. The city gates came into view within a minute and Zamira loved the feeling of the cold wind against her face. Her eyes were wide and her gray lips parted in joy.

The Elven guards that patrolled the gate looked up when they heard the rumbling of horse hooves and their eyes widened when they saw the hellish, undead steed and its rider. Though they knew who she was they remained at attention and held their graceful looking, but drawn bows up to her rushing figure. Reigning in Oblivion she sent a harsh glare at the elven guards and saw their wills crumble under her stare.

"You know I bring no harm or danger to your city and yet here you stand, pointing your arrows at me. I kindly ask you to lower your weapons and stand down." Zamira said. Her tone was as cutting as a blade's edge and the usually battle-hardened guards flinched at its sound. Oblivion nickered in an echoing manner and stamped his hooves on the ground heavily as if threatening the guards as well.

"Forgive us." They hastily said and moved away from the gates and with a flick of her reigns and a click of her tongue Oblivion shot off again. Elves leapt out of the way as the Acherus Deathcharger plowed down the pathways, after all none of them wanted to be flattened into a bloody pile of flesh.

The trip back to the hollow clearing took just over a minute whereas the trip out had taken a few minutes. As Oblivion leapt into the open space the sitting and relaxing Fellowship launched from their seats. The Hobbits were even wrapped in thick cloaks and a fire was roaring in the center.

"Sweet Eru!" Legolas exclaimed when the massive, undead destrier halted in the clearing. The clearing's temperature dropped another few degrees and soon all of them could see their warm breath misting in the chilled air.

The steel armor that plated in the stallion's body ground against each other as Oblivion shifted on his four legs, slightly agitated by the presence of so many living beings. The decorative skulls on the chestplate and sides clacked together and stared blankly out at their surroundings. Oblivion shook his head and the large gray horns that curled down his long face whistled quietly as wind swept along their cold surface. Zamira from atop the steed surveyed their reactions and saw a terrified awe emanating from most of them.

"Behold my mount; Oblivion, a Deathcharger of Acherus." She stated bluntly and watched as Merry and Pippin scurried forward and gazed up at the undead monstrosity before them.

"He is quite powerful looking, though in a terrifying and unnatural way." Merry said as his head bent back as he studied the large horse before him.

"He was nearly this large in his living life as well. That was at least before I was sent to steal him from his owners and then slay the Dark Rider who raised his soul from the dead. Quite a fun adventure if I recall correctly, especially when I was made to flee from the mentally damaged stable master, Kitrik." Zamira said a faint smile on her gray lips before they straightened back into the stern line they usually were held in.

A chilly breeze rolled by and the faint heat given off by the fire brushed against Zamira's face which made her flinch slightly. She turned towards the orange flickering flames that were struggling in vain against the encroaching cold and ever falling snow. She narrowed her blue, glowing eyes and fixed them upon the small bonfire. With a slight twitch of her thin black eyebrows the fire was extinguished and in its place a solid ice crystal.

"I see that your power has drastically increased." Aragorn said roughly and Zamira for once was surprised. The harsh and ragged looking human had never seemed too much of a talker unless the time called for verbal stimuli.

"Indeed. This is my true level of power, enough to raise an army of the dead in a flick of my wrist, enough stamina and power to decimate an army of thousands without ever tiring. These were the traits that my old Master and King valued greatly and that I now use against him." Zamira said feeling a bit of nostalgia talking about Arthas and a sickening feeling in her gut and an icy, burning hatred in her muted heart.

"Truly magnificent." A loud and crisp female voice said from behind her and Zamira shifted in the saddle to see Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel walking briskly towards the hollow clearing. They had changed clothing and were now bundled for winter it seems, and only then did Zamira realize that she was not withholding any of her power. She had forgotten to mute its violent and harsh influence that had so drastically changed the weather within moments. She shut her eyes for a brief moment and focused on restraining her runic power. The air around her warmed and the dainty snowflakes no longer fell from the gray sky over Lorien.

"I apologize for not keeping my power more controlled." She said and bowed her head in the Elven Queen's direction who nodded in return. Zamira stood in her saddle and vaulted down the ground and laid her gauntleted right hand upon Oblivion's flanks.

Merry and Pippin were still looking quite intrigued by the Deathcharger and their hands twitched as if they wished to pet him.

"Do you wish to touch Oblivion, Young Hobbits?" She asked and then met her brighter eyes and nodded hesitantly. She strode over to them and with one arm wrapped around their middles she heaved them easily into the air and held them up to Oblivion's long face.

"Be gentle and slow, he is not nearly as comfortable around the living as he would be around things that are dead." She whispered in hushed tones to the Hobbits, who wriggled in her cold embrace and extended their small hands out to the horse.

The Deathcharger's skin was ice cold as they stroked the velvety muzzle of the beast. Pippin trailed a pale finger down one of the gray horns and was surprised that it was real and not a decoration.

"I thought they were fake." He whispered to himself and Zamira chuckled.

"His horns are quite real, Pippin." She said and then set them both down on the ground as carefully as she could. It was odd, but Zamira always knew she had a soft spot for younger beings, mainly children. They reminded her so much of the orphaned, young, Gnome Mage, who often had a slip of her tongue and called the female Death Knight "Mom", "Mother" or "Mama".

"Such a steed is worthy of recognition." Lord Celeborn said as he strode up and examined the Deathcharger with his steel gray eyes but made no move to touch the horse.

"He has served me well." Zamira said.

"I do not doubt it, Commander. But if I may inquire, do you have any other mounts that we may gaze upon?" Lady Galadriel asked curiously, a spark of youth in her cornflower blue eyes.

"Yes, I do. I must warn you though; they are not all pleasant to the eyes as you may think." She said and with a wave of her right hand Oblivion vanished in a cloud of gray, scentless smoke. She waved her hand again and a larger cloud of smoke appeared and a hissing and heavy rattling noise was heard.

"You have called me, Master?" A deep rumbling voice that had a harsh echo rang out from the smoke cloud.

"Indeed I have summoned thee, Glacios." Zamira said as she strode forward and the smoke slowly began to clear. A bright blue glow emanated from the cloud and bones of stark white were revealed. Flesh and sinew hung by threads to the skeleton of a once large drake of the Blue Dragonflight. Gaping, bony jaws filled with snow white fangs and large black protruding horns from his skull. The Frostwyrm stretched his legs and flexed his talons that carved large gashes into the semi-frozen earth. His wings extended and flapped once in the air that sent a chilled gust past them all.

"What is my purpose this time, Master?" Glacios asked as he bent his head forward and nudged lovingly at Zamira's chestplate.

"This is merely a social visit, I was asked to show my newest companions all of my loyal carriers. Introduce yourself." Zamira said as she turned to the clumped crowd of living beings that gaped in fear at the Frostwyrm behind her.

Glacios raised his skeletal head and gazed with empty glowing sockets out at the crowd before him.

"Another group of live ones, 'eh? Very well, Master." He growled out and spread his tattered wings in an intimidating manner before opening his great fanged maw.

"Beings, I am Glacios, son of Balacgos, grandson of the Spell Weaver himself!" He roared out with pride and the visible aura of undeath that pulsed from within his ribcage shone brighter than before and his spiked, mace-like tail slammed into the ground for punctuation.

"Be at ease, Glacios. They don't know those names; they will not understand how special you are." Zamira stated bluntly and watched humorously as the Frostwyrm reacted to the information.

"How so? Most should know of my grandfather Malygos, after all with the Nexus War well underway." He asked and Zamira turned to the Frostwyrm as the group behind her carefully approached the skeleton dragon before them.

"This isn't Azeroth, Glacios. This is another world." She said and he lay down upon the ground and lowered his head to meet his Master's eyes.

"Surely you jest, Master. Such things are impossible." Glacios said and the female Death Knight grinned.

"You should well know that other worlds are not improbable. Look at the Draenei; they originally came from another world that they call Argus. Then there is Outland, formerly Draenor, which too was once another world before it was shattered. So you are mistaken, Glacios, such things are not impossible." Zamira said almost in a berating tone as a mother would speak to a child.

"Forgive me, Master, I spoke without thinking." He said bowing his great head and then glancing at the small Hobbit that had slowly begun creeping up behind the female Death Knight.

"And who might this Gnomish looking creature be?" Glacios asked and he stared at the now stock-still Pippin.

"This is Peregrin Took, a Hobbit. They are basically this world's form of Gnomes. Now return to whence you came there are more important things for me to do than rant on about nonsense." Zamira said, ordering the final part and flicking her right hand at the Frostwyrm, who bowed his great skull and vanished in a similar cloud of gray smoke.

"What… exactly… was that disgusting creature?" Boromir asked from the back of the crowd where his bright blue eyes were nearly rolling in their sockets and his face was as pale as freshly fallen snow.

"A Frostwyrm, an undead dragon and my eternally loyal servant. He was a gift from my old master and his own pet, Glacios' grandmother; Sindragosa the Frost Queen." She said and then turning her eyes back to the Elvish Queen who seemed in a state of shock.

"You wish to see the others?" The Death Knight asked and the Queen simply nodded.

Over the next few minutes Zamira summoned a good portion of her mounts for the growing crowd to examine and look at in awe. Her Swift Mistsaber, Great Blue Elekk, Swift Razzashi Raptor, White War Talbuk, Winged Steed of the Ebon Blade, Snowy Gryphon, Cobalt Netherwing Drake, Swift Purple Gryphon, Red Proto-Drake, Swift Gray Ram and Swift White Horse. In the end most of the crowd was rather awestruck and glued to the ground where they sat, the tree they leaned upon or the ground upon which they stood.

Excusing herself from the frozen crowd Zamira, without a mount to bear her, strode off into the tree searching for a secluded place to relax, calm her nerves and recuperate some of the energy she had spent summoning so many of her mounts.

After twenty or so minutes of just sitting peacefully on the ground Zamira rose from her lounging position and slowly stretched her body. Despite being a rather active person her muscles had managed to stiffen slightly with the lack of fighting and overall action she had been doing. Sitting around and doing nothing was not something a Death Knight ever really experienced. It was always battle, blood, gore, killing and a repetition of the same cycle over and over for their eternally damned existences.

As she stretched and then began to run through basic swordsmanship she felt eyes upon her though she could not discern who they peering eyes belonged to. As powerful as she was now Zamira did not worry about a weak living creature of this world that decided to spy upon her doings.

From the cover of the trees a pair of sky blue eyes watched the Death Knight's movement with keen interest. Silvery blonde locks framed his delicate and elven face as the Prince of Mirkwood watched his interesting companion. He had no doubts that he was enamored with the female Death Knight, but clear in his head was a deep fear of either being killed, injured or rejected by the lady to whom his heart currently pined for.

Zamira spun on her feet and reached her right hand out and grasped at something in the air and a purple, pink and black jet of unholy energy shot out of her palm and wrapped firmly around the elf's waist. With a yank of her still heavily armored arm he was sent flying into the small clearing and set down none too gently right before her.

"Why are you watching me, Legolas?" Zamira asked, amused slightly by the look of horror and embarrassment upon the male elf's handsome face.

"I…umm…well…I…" He stuttered out and a heavy red blush rushed up his neck all the way to the tips of his ears.

"Spit it out. I'm waiting." She demanded, a bit harsher than she had planned, but was still just messing with the innocent looking male in her grasp.

"I find myself… umm… interested in you, Zamira. In a… well… in a…. romantic sense." He said, pausing and trying to subdue the heavy blush that marred his pale skin with blotchy red that was humorous and odd to look at. After all Death Knights don't blush, their blood moves so slowly that it is impossible for the blood to reach their cheeks in time to react to the emotions.

"I thought as much." Zamira said simply and released the blonde elf from her Death Grip. After being released Legolas felt a rush of wild courage surge through his blood and he took a brave step forward.

"What of your feelings? How do you feel for me?" He asked in hushed tones, trying to gentle coax the reaction he wanted from this new frozen mystery woman before him.

"I do not know, Legolas. Truly there is a connection but I am torn. Despite my admittance to not having a lover there is another who longs for my affections, or at least I believe he does." Zamira said quietly as she sunk to the ground and laid Mistrend at her side and beckoned the Prince to sit with her. It was odd, a heart to heart moment with a strange elf that she knew not very well but still felt connected to.

"Who is he?" Legolas asks as he sits cross-legged by her side, leaning slightly forward with his elbows on his knees and his chin balanced in his connected palms.

"The Highlord of the Ebon Blade, Darion Mograine. I do not know what he feels for me. Whether it is simple lust or his undead heart has melted the unloving vow he made to Kel'thuzad. And because of thus I cannot be sure of my feelings for you while my own black heart is torn asunder by such complex and stressful thoughts." Zamira said bluntly and saw the calm and peaceful expression on the elf's face fall slightly as he heard her reason behind her confusion.

In her mind many things were happening and suddenly an idea came to mind. It may have been a spur of the moment but just because she was nearly dead did not mean she had no instincts and random actions of emotional influence.

"I have something to tell you." She said quietly and then glanced around with her glowing eyes. Legolas glanced up from the ground that he had been subconsciously digging his pale fingers into and met her gaze.

"Last night when I came back I had been to see Lady Galadriel who made me look in her mirror. I saw something that concerned you there, in one of the visions." The undead woman said, pausing slightly in hesitation. She doubted her decision to tell the male elf before her about the last vision. But the look of curiosity on his face that now carried not a hint of sadness urged her on.

"I saw us, together, as in a couple. I was not the self you see before you now, but I had been returned to my former self, as a paragon of the Holy Light, a Paladin. We apparently have conceived a child together, a son to be specific." Zamira said rapidly trying to rush the words before her determination and romantic bravery failed her and collapsed.

The look on the elf's face was worth all the gold in a Guild Bank Vault. His eyes were sparkling with so many emotions, many of which Zamira could not comprehend. His face was flushed once again but in a lighter shade, not a brilliant red but a muted rosy color. His body seemed frozen in place and after one minute of no reaction Zamira gave up on the elf.

Rising from her sitting place she grasped Mistrend once again and took a few steps away before returning to her swordsmanship practice. A few more minutes passed this way and Zamira nearly forgot that there was a stock-still elf sitting right in the middle of the clearing.

Just as she was about to parry an invisible thrust from an imaginary opponent she felt a quick hand latch onto one of the spikes on her pauldrons and spin her around. Remembering what happened last time this had occurred Zamira braced herself for the inevitable.

As her spin halted she gazed into the smiling face of Legolas who seemed to shine with absolute radiance like a Holy Paladin who has just cast Beacon of Light his blue eyes sparkled and his pale pink lips were pulled back in a small smile.

"That was a wonderful vision." He whispered before claiming her lips in a gentle but passionate kiss.

**Author Note: Cliffhanger! Bwahahahahahaha! I've been waiting to write this scene for ages and now I have and it makes me very happy! Anywho this is the end of chapter 11 and according to my predictions there will be one or two more chapters before the completion of part one that follows the events of Fellowship of the Ring. I hope to reach 50 reviews with Part One, but considering lately I don't know if I can believe that it will happen. Lastly, I want to thank all the people that have helped me, reviewed or added me as a favorite author, story alert of favorite this story. It really means a lot to me.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: **

**Dedications: To all of you overly awesome people who reviewed on Chapter 11! Yeah, that's right no more names just acknowledgements to you all. Yeah, that's right, you right there, and yeah you know who you are. **

**Now for some review responses! ^-^ (kitteh)**

**-Daval Prestor: You are now my temporary hero. Firstly I have never had a reviewer leave a poem or whatever that was, but in any case it was very interesting and enjoyable to read. But on another note… You are so wrong, its still necrophilia if it's still warm! If the person's heart is not beating then they are dead which makes it necrophilia! But still I lawl-ed when I read that…**

**-Ravenvanguard: Thank you very much. I missed your reviews for a while there I had thought you'd disappeared! T-T But anywho I'm glad you like the ending and I hope you are pleased with the content of this chapter.**

**-Sharnorasian Empire: You're such a goof, but that's why you're one of my besties. But I am happy that you found this chapter to be excellent and up to your standards (which are astronomically high, I might add) and spelling errors happen so… Nyeh.**

**-Plekpot: Hello there stranger! I am happy you like how my fanfiction has been going and hope you stick along for the whole ride, or else I'll throw you off the pimp-boat! Lolz jk jk.**

**Disclaimer: World of Warcraft is owned by Blizzard Entertainment and Lord of the Rings is the creation of J.R.R. Tolkien.**

**Claimer: Zamira Snowfang, all OCs and anything you don't recognize from LotR or WoW belongs to me. **

**Though with a few exceptions during this chapter and possibly chapters to come… but I'm not giving away any spoilers. **

***plot bunny jumps out of a hole* SEQUEL! PEOPLE THERE WILL BE A SEQUEL! **

***leaps towards the bunny and tackles it to the ground* **

**Ignore everything you just heard on penalty of brain goo being flung at your windows.**

**But anywho during this chapter there are going to be other people's characters that have pleaded their case and won over my mind to be included.**

**Blackrose is the character of my top reviewer and one of my best friends EVER!…. SHARNORASIAN EMPIRE! **

***pushes applauds button***

**And also due to a bit more begging her husband's character, Xaphras, is also being included.**

***pushes applauds button again***

**And now without further ado I give you the one, the only, the incredibly awesome and anxiously awaited… CHAPTER TWELVE OF ETERNAL UNDEATH! **

***the invisible crowd that hovers over my back all day goes wild***

***roll of toilet paper hits me in the back of the head***

**HEY! WHAT DID I TELL YOU GUYS ABOUT THROWING THINGS!**

His lips were soft, warm but not the burning heat she had experienced with Haldir. For a few moments she stood still, just as she had before. But this was Legolas, a much better elf to be kissed by than the dog Haldir. Leaning forward slightly, Zamira returned the kiss subtly and then placed her gauntleted hands around Legolas' forearms and pried him away.

His almost childish face sank into a mixture of sadness and nearly pure terror, like he was afraid she would beat him to death. She understood his fear of her but did not plan to strike at the elf.

"Legolas, calm yourself. It is not that I am spurning your affections. I just require more time to make a decision on how this is to be." She said simply and the blonde elf's face lit up again and he quickly stole an extra peck on her gray lips before he fled into the trees.

Sighing at the childishness of the full grown elf, Zamira picked up Mistrend from the ground where it had fallen from her grip when Legolas had 'attacked' her. She retreated over to a tree trunk and sat heavily upon the ground letting out a cold puff of breath in the form of an unusually deep sigh. Closing her eyes the Death Knight settled into slumped position for a calming nap. Hopefully she would dream of something from her past to calm the tempestuous storm of unfamiliar emotions in her mind, heart and frozen soul.

_~Start Flashback/Dream~_

_ Stormwind was by far the most majestic city she had ever been in. The well built, white stone buildings and finely cobbled streets just gave off the permeable aura of beauty and nobility. Every vendor was busy selling his or her wears to a variety of races. Here and there a mount caused uproar, a Mechanostrider having a malfunction, a Saber catching sight of a squirrel, a cowardly Elekk that freaked when a Gnome zoomed under its large feet._

_ It was only four months after the Death Knights that had witnessed the Battle for Light's Hope Chapel had been freed and had rejoined their races and factions. Though even now they all received dirty looks from those that still had fast blood running through their veins. The only ones that seemed to understand were Warlocks but many of their minds had been the first to go so it was natural that they would not care much._

_ Walking calmly down the street, Zamira Snowfang honestly had no idea where to go. Her memories of Stormwind from her living years were blurry, faint or unreachable. Ambling down the gray cobbled road her eyes narrowed from underneath her helm as the crowd in front of her jostled and she heard the dark grumbles of a Voidwalker and the bossy tones of a female._

_ Popping out of the crowd, a red haired human woman appeared and squeezed her way between a large Night Elf male and an even larger Draenei male. Her Voidwalker followed her but the males moved out of the demon's way faster than one could blink. _

_ Only after Zamira had noticed most of the female's physical traits, relatively tall, probably only an inch shorter than herself with vibrant blood red hair, sky blue eyes and pale pinkish skin, did she notice that the warlock was running directly at her._

_ Lacking the time to put her hand up in defense the woman crashed into her plated body and they both nearly fell onto the hard cobbles. Zamira managed to steady herself by widening her booted feet and then grabbed the Warlock's arm quickly to prevent her from falling as well._

_ "Are you alright? What is your rush?" She asked the Warlock who looked up and seemed shocked to see the glowing blue eyes of a Death Knight hovering slightly above her. Hastily pulling her arm from Zamira's grip the redhead backed away and steadied herself on her own._

_ "Sorry, I was trying to meet my husband and I'm already very late." She said._

_ "So you're off to then Inn for a dinner?" Zamira asked, guessing at where the woman would be going, though she herself had absolutely no romantic experience._

_ "Yes I am. I only just found him after he was missing for so long." She said and Zamira raised an eyebrow from behind her helm's visor. Missing, huh? It could possibly be another Death Knight, though it was rare that they took a living bed companion, even less common was to be married. But he could also have just been some poor common man to have been kidnapped by hostiles and then returned when an adventurer went to rescue him. For some reason Zamira believed it to be the former, no well equipped Warlock with clear experience under her belt would fall for a commoner._

_ "So he was lost in battle I assume?" She asked and the redhead nodded._

_ "Yes he was. He's one of you now." She replied._

_ "Ah, so he is a Death Knight. What is his name, I may know him?" Zamira asked, faintly curious as to whom this cold, undead lover of hers could possibly be. Surely not high ranking, probably a lowly initiate or an average soldier._

_ "Xaphras Drathras." The warlock said and Zamira's eyes widened slightly for a moment before narrowing in speculation at the woman before her. Xaphras had been a skilled and powerful Death Knight amongst the ranks of the Lich King's armies. Even a month before the battle for the Chapel he had been promoted to a Commander. He joined the battle strategy meetings with Darion, Koltira, Thassarian and herself. Deciding where to send the Scourge next. Whether for conquest, slaughter or recruitment of new corpses for ghouls, parts for abominations and nearly dead warriors for Death Knights._

_ "Yes, I remember him. He was one of my fellow commanders when we served him." Zamira said though she hissed at the end as her burning hatred for Arthas Menethil, the Lich King burned through her veins._

_ "Oh, that bastard Arthas. But I am so happy to have found my husband again." She said and Zamira nodded din understanding, though it was false and she didn't understand the happiness of being reunited with a long lost relation. But then a thought struck her._

_ "So you are not repulsed by his new self?" Zamira asked. The dirty looks were one thing, but on her first visit to Stormwind she had been harassed verbally and physically by a group of Paladins. In her mind all Death Knights were hated by the living. But then again Warlocks were a bit of an exception._

_ "Why would I be repulsed? He is still the same man I fell in love with." She said and Zamira honestly couldn't believe her ears. Still the same man? That couldn't be right; most Death Knights lost their memories of being alive and their whole entire demeanors changed. Could Xaphras had been an exception and kept most of his old self. He had seemed very Death Knight-y when they were in the service of the Lich King. Still she continued the interrogation._

_ "His cold skin does not frighten you, make you recoil in shock? The fact that he is a symbol of death itself and evil incarnate does not make your heart clinch in unfamiliarity?" Zamira asked using harsh words but hoping that she would find the reason behind their connection._

_ "No it does not! I am a Warlock; I understand the pains of being shunned by society! I too am a symbol of evil, I control demons, and wield the fires of hell and diseases like it were child's play." The redhead retorted and Zamira felt thoroughly scolded. Resigning her inquiry she nodded her head in apology._

_ "True enough. I meant no offense; I was just intrigued by the thought of a living being finding companionship with one of us." She said bluntly and with honesty._

_ "Maybe you'll get lucky as well. But I must be off; I cannot be late to this dinner." She said and shifted her feet as if preparing to set off at a furious run again. the Voidwalker behind her flexed its sharp semi-transparent clawed hands and made an echoing grumble as if it too was impatient and wanted to get going again._

_ "Very well then. Be off with you Warlock, I bid thee well. Send my regards to Commander Xaphras. Tell him that Commander Snowfang sends them." Zamira said and made to walk away before a surprised gasp from the woman made her halt._

_ "So you're Commander Snowfang? I had never thought to meet one of the more famous Commanders here in Stormwind. I would have thought you'd remain in the Ebon Hold and never find your way into the lands of the living. Xaphras told me that you mainly kept to yourself and didn't like going out into the wilderness." She said and Zamira nodded since it was true. She'd much rather remain in the Plaguelands where at least she felt nearly at home. Though she'd much rather be roaming the frozen tundras and snow-packed wastelands of Northrend._

_ "Aye. I never thought I would either. But the Highlord commands that I take a 'break' so here I am." Zamira said. It was quite literally what had happened. She had been busy for three weeks watching after Initiates and handing out quests to younger, less experienced adventurer to go and kill things in the Plaguelands. Highlord Mograine had approached her and ordered her to go and take a rest in a major city, drink a little, socialize._

_ "Ah, I see. Well maybe we shall meet again. Come Helgorg." She said and with a wave of her hand summoned a flaming Dreadsteed that looked to be made of plates of demonic rock and the fires of hell rippling beneath its thick skin. The Voidwalker behind her grumbled loudly and followed quickly after the now galloping demon horse._

_ Zamira followed the Warlock with her eyes until she vanished down the tunnel leading into Old Town. Turning back to the road the Death Knight continued her stroll._

_ Half an hour passed and the darkness was encroaching on the city but in the distance Zamira thought she heard something. Stopping she heard the faint cry of someone. Something warm in her chest pricked and she found herself walking briskly in the noise's direction. Now that she was closer she could recognize girlish squeals and yelps of pain and the deep rumbling of male laughter._

_ Looking into an alley Zamira saw something that brought about a cold fury in her veins. Striding forward she unsheathed her Runeblade from her back and pressed its sharp edge into the soft and open flesh of the human warrior before her. He froze and his accomplices a fellow warrior and a rogue looked up from the bundle of colorful cloth on the ground and their eyes widened._

_ Their armor was weak and cheap, their weapons no better than a stick against her plate encased body._

_ "Start praying." She whispered harshly as she flipped her two-handed sword in her hands and brought the pommel of the weapon down on the first warrior's skull. It hit with a crack, hard enough to knock someone unconscious but not nearly enough to kill. _

_ Lunging forward she repeated the action on the other warrior but looked around for the rogue to find him gone._

_ "The coward probably stealthed away." She hissed angrily and then knelt on the ground to peer at the bundle of color on the cobbles. Pulling away a fold of fabric she saw the delirious face of a youthful Gnome girl. From the robes and the staff lying on the ground a few feet away Zamira assumed that she was most likely a Mage. _

_ As the eyes of the Gnome cleared the undead woman pulled from her satchel a single Netherweave bandage she had left over from her times in Outland and wrapped it around the shredded and heavily bruised middle of the Gnome. She also pulled an odd mana potion from her satchel that she had recently gained from some humanoid monster she had killed and handed it to the Gnome who had regained her mind._

_ Seeing that the girl was quickly on her way to recovery Zamira stood and grabbed both lowly warriors by the scruffs of their mail hauberks and hauled them out of the alley and into the street. Farther down the street she saw a patrolling Stormwind Guard and called out to him._

_ "What is the problem?" The guard asked._

_ "I just caught these two warriors beating a young gnome girl in that alley." Zamira said as she glanced at the mage peering from the alley with wary and scared eyes. The guard nodded and with a gnomish device that had been clipped to his belt said some orders into it and within moments a group of four other guards showed up and hauled away the unconscious warriors._

_ "Thank you, Death Knight." The first guard said before rushing off to continue his patrol. Glancing behind her Zamira saw the Gnome was staring at her with bright green eyes. Her icy blue hair was pulled up into two large pigtails and her skin was a soft shade of pink._

_ "There is no need to thank me, Gnome." She said and then turned away but before she even made one step a small form attacked her leg and wrapped its limbs around her calf. Looking down she saw the childish gnome was entwined around her leg firmly and looking up at her with fearful eyes._

_ "Take me with you." She whispered and Zamira was at a loss of what to do. Simply choosing to nod in compliance the Gnome dropped from her leg and began to walk next to her as she continued her calming walk._

_ Only ten minutes later a loud grumble came from the girl's stomach._

_ "You are hungry." Zamira stated and the girl nodded._

_ "Come. I'll get you some food at the tavern." The undead woman said and briskly began walking towards Old Town where she knew there was a popular tavern called the Pig and Whistle._

_ The tavern was incredibly busy with nearly every table, chair and barstool filled. Though she managed to secure a place at one of the large tables and ordered some food and drinks for the Gnome Mage and ordered a Jug of Bourbon for herself. The food and drinks came rather quickly and the Gnome girl began to eat like a pig. Once most of her food was gone she leaned back in her chair and gazed across the table at Zamira._

_ "Thank you very much for saving me, Death Knight. My name is Nefti Airslicer and I am forever in your debt." She said with her voice high and squeaky, just as most female Gnomes' were._

_ "That is unnecessary." Zamira stated bluntly and then heard the clacking of hooves on a wooden floor._

_ "Why would you even want to be in the debt of a Death Knight, girl? They are nothing but the unnatural creations of evil." A deep and heavily accented voice said from behind her and glancing over her pauldrons she saw a heavily armored Draenei Paladin male. _

_ His skin was a dark purple and facial tendrils spilled over onto his breastplate from under his open faced helmet. Easily over eight feet tall with rippling muscles under the thick plates of silvery metal, veined with gold colored metals._

_ "You're one to talk. Part of an exiled race when you could have chosen the path to power by allying yourselves with the Burning Legion. You're whole race is merely a bunch of cowards and traitors." Zamira said her voice low but audible with a cold fury that she felt could no longer be restrained in her double-timbre voice._

_ "You'll regret saying that, corpse!" The Draenei roared and then from his back un-slung a massive two-handed mace. Zamira dodged out of the way and grabbed the Gnome Mage with her as she rolled to the ground. The spiked mace smashed cleanly through the table and left it in shattered splinters all over the floor._

_ "No fighting in the tavern!" The barmaid named Elly Langston yelled furiously, her face red with rage but the Death Knight and Paladin paid her shrieks no mind._

_ Their fight lasted not nearly as long as Zamira had hoped when the Paladin and his clumsy hooves had trilled over a barstool and collapsed onto the ground. Having him pinned there Zamira held her Runeblade's edge to his throat and narrowed her glowing eyes._

_ "Yield." She demanded._

_ "I'd rather die. Defeat at the hands of a dead thing such as you is dishonorable." The Draenei growled between his blue blood stained teeth._

_ "I do not wish to shed your blue blood on this floor. I am in no mood to kill tonight." The undead woman hissed and sent a gauntleted fist into the male's face. He howled in pain as his large nose broke under her strength and then Zamira grabbed one of his thicker facial tendrils and pulled on it hard._

_ "Yield, I say." She hissed again and the Draenei's muscles finally relaxed from under her._

_ "I yield." He whispered and Zamira rose from the floor and extended a hand to the Draenei who looked at it with disgust and knocked it away before clambering onto his hooves by himself. His thick tail swung around furiously and knocked a chair over with a clatter before he stomped furiously out into the darkened street._

_ "Those were some nice moves ya got there, lassie." A heavy dwarven voice said from behind her and she saw a short and stout Hunter with fiery red eyes and a thick silver beard and a single braid coming from his bald head and hanging down his back. Next to him was a hissing white Warp Stalker that looked like it wanted to eat everyone in that room alive._

_ "Thank you." Zamira said simply and sheathed her Runeblade upon her back and turned to face the Gnome girl who was sitting next to a slender female Night Elf Druid._

_ "Death Knight, come here so that I may heal your wound." She said softly and motioned with a light purple hand._

_ Zamira was confused she did not remember getting wounded but when she looked down she saw a small gash on the outside of her thigh where there was a small break in her armor. She guessed that during the fight one of the spikes on the Paladin's mace had nicked there._

_ Walking forward the Druid's right hand began to glow a light green and then when the hand was within a few inches of the open skin, that slowly was oozing a blackish form of blood, it began to rapidly heal. Within seconds the wound was gone and smooth, flawless deathly pale skin was all that remained._

_ "I thank you…" Zamira began but then cut off when she had gone to address the Night Elf by name._

_ "I am Nevarial Oakwalker, a Druid of the Cenarion Circle." The purple haired elf said and smiled slightly in a kindly manner._

_ "Aye, and I'm Soldrin Beastclaw of the Wildhammer Dwarves!" The silver haired, red eyed dwarf called from his table where he had been feeding his Warp Stalker a large chunk of raw meat with his own hands. There was a quiet gasp from a darkened corner and familiar face emerged from the shadows with a dark figure in her wake. _

_ The red haired Warlock from before walked out and behind her the glowing blue eyes of her tall companion gazed into Zamira's own. His black hair slicked back into a neat and long ponytail and his body also not as overly muscular as most but still capable of landing a vicious blow on any creature._

_ "Commander Drathras." Zamira said bluntly and nodded in greeting._

_ "Commander Snowfang. It's been a while." He said in the double-timbre voice of all Death Knights and she nodded once again._

_ "Indeed it has been. I had the pleasure of meeting your wife earlier." She said and she saw his pale lips twitch into an almost smile._

_ "I heard. Zamira, meet Blackrose, though most would simply call her Rose." He said and Zamira turned her eyes to the red head once again and nodded._

_ "It is nice to meet you once again, Blackrose the Warlock." The undead woman said inclining her head._

_ "Same to you, Commander Snowfang." She replied and then Zamira turned her gaze back to Xaphras who still stood behind and to the right of his wife._

_ "Where have you been? Darion almost sent Thassarian out to find you." She asked and his eyes darkened slightly._

_ "I needed to find Rose. I remembered her and our wedding from my living life. I needed to see her again." He said and Zamira frowned._

_ "That is not a valid excuse. You are needed in the Plaguelands. You are due in Northrend by the end of the week. If you do not go, I will in your place and Darion will know the reason you have been gone." Zamira said setting her stern facial expression and gazing hard at Xaphras._

_ "I will return in time for the ship from Menethil Harbor. But I request to bring Rose with me as well, add her to the roster for the Ebon Blade Battalion." He said and Zamira furrowed her eyebrows._

_ "Very well. I shall add her name to the roster and make a request to the Highlord on her accompanying you." Zamira said and then turned away from Xaphras and motioned for the Gnome girl to follow her. _

_ They left the tavern at a brisk pace and made their way to the nearest Inn that didn't smell like smoke or alcohol. After purchasing a double cot room for one night the Death Knight led her companion into the room and left her to her bedtime business while she walked back downstairs and sat in the lounge and calmed her mind._

_ So much drama and stress for one day, her brain couldn't take all this nonsense. After the pounding in her mind eased, Zamira rose from her chair and went back into the room she and the Gnome shared. All that she could see was a pair of large icy blue pigtails sticking out from a huge pillow and the subtly movements of the Gnome's breathing from underneath the thin sheets._

_ After unbuckling all her plate armor and laying her Runeblade upon the cot, Zamira placed her armor into her enchanted satchel and then lay on the small cot in nothing but a pair of worn black breeches and a faded dark purple tunic. With her hand resting lightly on the grip of her monstrous Runeblade she fell into a deep sleep, much deeper than her slumbering periods of late had been._

_~End Flashback/Dream~_

Zamira woke to blinding sunshine, glaring right down and through her thin eyelids. Blinking quickly she rose from her napping position on the ground of the clearing she had settled down in the previous afternoon. Hastily, she stretched out the stiffened muscles of her legs, arms and back and then after sheathing Mistrend back into its baldric the undead woman jogged back in the direction of the hollow clearing that the Fellowship had made its camp in.

As she emerged from the trees she saw that breakfast was just being served, but the camp itself was all packed away and various elves where carrying packs down a trail. She sat down at the table and began to munch on some fruits and variety of meats that were still steaming hot.

"Good morning, Lady Zamira." Pippin and Merry said simultaneously and she nodded in their direction since her mouth was full.

Breakfast was a quick affair, though it still gave the remaining members to relax and eat their fair share. Aragorn seemed back his brooding and silent self, Boromir seemed a bit more chipper than normal but then again Zamira had sensed his unease with the elvish city. Then there was Legolas. The blonde elf seemed to be radiating a joyous aura that if it were to be visible would have been the bright golden yellow of a noontime sun.

As the table was cleared a group of armed elves escorted the Fellowship down a trail and to a river bank. There waiting was another troop of armed guards and Lord Celeborn who was speaking quietly with a bandaged and undistinguishable March Warden.

Zamira heard a snort from behind her and saw Legolas glancing between Haldir's heavily bandaged face and her. Her lips twitched into an almost smile and Legolas snorted once more and tried to hide his laughter and widely grinning face behind his hand.

As they stood around on the riverbank there was a hush of quiet and a faint rippling of water could be heard. Glancing out into the river a great white boat, propelled by oars was moving swiftly towards the shore. At its prow, the elven queen, Lady Galadriel stood in a gown of white and silver.

After she had exited the boat and come ashore a troop of handmaidens reached into a pile of grayish-green cloth and pulled out many cloaks of various sizes. Each Handmaiden approached and member of the Fellowship and pinned the cloak around their shoulders with a brooch shaped into the ivy-like leaves of the Mallorn trees of Lorien. The handmaiden who approached Zamira was giving off such a heavy aura of fear that her hands shook like leaves themselves and she pricked her fingers many times on the needle-like tip of the brooch.

"Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people. May these cloaks held shield you from unfriendly eyes." Lord Celeborn said as the handmaidens stepped away and retreated briskly into the woods.

After that many of the armed elvish guards began to pile the packs into the three long, canoe-like boats that rested on the shore, ready to be pushed into the river's clear water. As the others of the Fellowship helped them pack away their things Aragorn and Zamira remained with Lord Celeborn.

"Every league you travel south, the danger will increase. Mordor Orcs now hold the eastern shore of the Anduin. Nor will you find safety on the western bank. Strange creatures bearing the White Hand have been seen on our borders. Seldom do Orcs journey in the open under the sun, yet these have done so." He said to Aragorn while Zamira just listened intently.

The Lord whispered something in Elvish which she did not understand, though she did not expect to. A large curved dagger passed from Celeborn's hands to Aragorn's.

"By river you have the chance of outrunning the enemy to the Falls of Rauros." The elven Lord finished before he led them back to another lining up of the Fellowship. This time Lady Galadriel stood in waiting with four armed guards that bore an assortment of items. She approached Legolas first.

"My gift for you, Legolas, is a bow of the Galadhrim. Worthy of the skill of our woodland kin." She said and the blonde elf hurriedly exchanged his current yew bow for the gracefully carved bow he had been given. With a kind smile she moved onto Merry and Pippin.

"These are the daggers of the Noldorin. They have already seen service in war. Do not fear, young Peregrin Took. You will find your courage." She said and the two young Hobbits fastened the daggers to their belts. Next was Sam.

"And for you, Samwise Gamgee, elven rope made of hithlain." She said.

"Thank you, My Lady. Have you run out of those nice, shiny daggers?" Sam asked and Galadriel simply gave him a kindly smile and moved on to Gimli who was staring at the ground.

"And what gift would a Dwarf ask of the Elves?" Galadriel asked and Gimli looked up surprised from the ground with a sparkle in his dark eyes.

"Nothing. Except to look upon the lady of the Galadhrim one last time, for she is more fair than all the jewels beneath the earth." He grumbled out and the Elvish Queen laughed lightly and then Gimli halfway turned away in embarrassment.

"Actually, umm, there was one thing. No, no, I couldn't. It's quite impossible. Stupid to ask." Gimli grumbled and with a smile Galadriel pulled three thin strands of her hair from her head and handed them wordlessly to the blushing Dwarf. Next was Aragorn but Galadriel carried no gift in her hands.

"I have nothing greater to give, than the gift you already bear." She said as she lightly touched the silver and crystal pendant that he wore around his next on a thin silver chain. She then said something in their elvish language. He replied to her and then she moved on to Boromir who quickly declined a gift so she nodded in acceptance and moved to Frodo.

"Farewell, Frodo Baggins. I give you the light of _**Eärendil, our most beloved star. May it be a light for you in dark places, when all others go out." She said and handed him a vial of clear liquid that seemed to sparkle in the misty sunlight. Then she approached the last in line.**_

_** "I have a special gift for you, Commander Snowfang. I give you an enchanted pearl that should you wish to go back to your world, when this task is complete, you may. But there is a catch… the pearl will only work if the One Ring is destroyed. Should you fail, you will remain here and suffer a terrible fate." She said and passed the shining light silvery-gray pearl into the female Death Knight's gauntleted right hand.**_

_** "Then we shall not fail. I will see Azeroth again." She said and then placed the pearl into her enchanted satchel and snapped the lid shut. With the gifts given the Fellowship was loaded into the three canoes with Zamira having to ride with Gimli and Legolas. She sat at the stern since her physical strength and weight were much greater than Legolas' who took the prow. While Gimli sat heavily in the middle while he admired the three strands of golden hair between his fingers.**_

_** With final farewells given the Fellowship pushed off from the shallows and into the steady current of the river that would lead them further towards their goal.**_

_THE END! Well at least for this chapter. You can thank Sharnorasian Empire for having me get this chapter out so fast. So review, rate, etc. and forgive any spelling and grammar mistakes since I quickly edited this for such things and probably missed a few._


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:**

**Dedications: Once again a big loving hug to all those who reviewed… though I will address your reviews below, even though some of you I have addressed privately… and to those who have not reviewed but Favorite-ed or Story Alert-ed to this fanfiction. It makes me feel really loved guys and I appreciate it. Now onwards!**

**-Sharnorasian Empire: Yeah, I've really got nothing to say to you that you haven't already heard over ten times so… *insert witty comic remark here*.**

**-CJNyfalt: I am glad you find my pacing with the romance to be good, since it should be known that relationships aren't all like *BAM!* you're together. Even less so with a Death Knight of Zamira's mentality who is only closely familiar with the rough passionate sudden kind of romance (if one could call it that, you'd have to ask Darion for his opinion). In Chapter 11, I didn't want to include any of Azeroth's future because those were supposed to solely revolve around Zamira and only her and the possible outcomes if the metaphorical 'shit' hits the fan. (Pardon my french, that was the only accurate way I could express that) And yes the bolding curse… I attempted to fix that at least four times but every time it was still there so I basically gave up. And yes, you make a valid point with the split up of the Fellowship and when I was writing down the storyline for this chapter I think I plotted it out rather well. But I'll let you and my fellow readers be the judge of that.**

**-Gigawatt101: You too… another one I don't really have much to say to. Oh well might as well come up with something random. Did you know that banging your head against a wall burns 150 calories an hour? It's true you know.**

**-Ravenvanguard: Another person I honestly have nothing to say to… oh well I guess you'll be getting a random fact of the day as well. Did you know that Termites eat wood twice as fast when listening to heavy metal music?**

**-Daval Prestor: Now to deal with you… you're a special case, oh high and mighty (yet crazy) evil overlord of all thing fiery and lava-y and darkness-y. Anywho, umm… thank you for all the compliments since there were about 3 or 4 of them. I will see what I can do to have your physical form put into this piece of fictional literature but I make no promises. Unless…. You can ship me a Twilight Whelp to raise as my own. I'd also like to point out that I am reading the War of the Ancients series by Richard A. Knaak and they display your magnificence, power and cruelty very well. I suggest you read them! Lastly, I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: World of Warcraft is owned by Blizzard Entertainment and Lord of the Rings is owned by J.R.R. Tolkien and all his affiliates.**

**Claimer: I however own Zamira and everything about her.**

**And now on to the chapter!**

As the day progressed and the golden sun rose ever higher the river widened. And from the more swamp-like canals it became a true river with a swift flowing current and the shores distant from their boats. Zamira easily paddled to keep up with Boromir and Aragorn who were in the other two boats. Legolas kept turning from his watching post at the prow and glanced at her but then when she caught his gaze he would turn back away and the tips of his ears would turn pink.

"I have taken my worst wound at this parting, having looked my last upon that which is fairest. Henceforth, I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me." Gimli said from the middle in a far-off tone and Legolas looked amused at the Dwarf's mumblings.

"What was her gift?" The elf asked quietly.

"I asked her for one hair from her golden head. She gave me three." Gimli replied to the elf, who cracked a smile at the Dwarf's love-struck proclamation.

After that much of the journey was silent. The river they followed merged into an even larger river but from then on it never strayed from its one path so there were no 'which direction do we take?' sort of conversations. Zamira kept paddling, never tiring though Legolas asked her plenty of times if she wanted to trade places. But she declined and continued paddling with a never ending rhythm.

It was well after midday when upon the western shore there was the cawing of startled birds. All of those who were warriors looked to that shore with narrowed eyes. Legolas seemed startled as well while Boromir, Aragorn and Zamira just glared at the forested land with their muscles stiffened and prepared for anything.

With their senses on high alert they continued down the river Zamira looking all around while paddling. As the sun began to set they found a rocky, small inlet to bring their boats up on shore and set up a small campsite. After they had eaten Boromir who had taken the first watch, even though the Fellowship remained awake seemed perturbed by something he saw floating on the water. Aragorn and Zamira walked over and peered over his shoulder.

Her glowing eyes narrowed as they saw the glowing eyes hiding behind a floating log. If she sense were correct then this would be the same creature she had startled within the shadowy bowels of Moria.

"Gollum. He has tracked us since Moria. I had hoped we would lose him on the river. But he's too clever a waterman." Aragorn said quietly and Zamira nodded, she could tell that this disfigured creature or whatever it was possessed a very intelligent mind to be able to have kept up with them so far.

"And if he alerts the enemy to our whereabouts, it will make the crossing even more dangerous." Boromir said and Zamira had to agree with him. Even as it was with the disturbance in the western forest they already knew they were in danger, even right at that very moment.

Zamira left Boromir who remained at his post and wandered across the campsite. She heard Frodo and Sam talking. It worried her slightly that the young Hobbit, by which she meant Frodo, wasn't eating or sleeping. As a healthy, living being he needed such things to survive. But it was none of her business and it seemed that Sam was already on the job.

Walking slowly to the water's edge Zamira unsheathed Mistrend and idly dipped the icy blade into the water and watched as the water instantly froze over. Suddenly she heard a commotion and heard Boromir's voice ringing out in the darkening silence.

"Yes, there is weakness. There is frailty. But there is courage also, and honor found in Men. But you will not see that." He said loudly but Aragorn wanted no more of the conversation so he began to turn away until the man of Gondor grabbed his leather jerkin and tugged him back.

"You are afraid! All your life, you have hidden in the shadows. Scared of who you are, of what you are." He yelled and Zamira withdrew her Runeblade from the waters to go and defuse the tension when a pale clothed arm touched her shoulder. Glancing over she saw Legolas with Gimli by his side. Gimli's arms were full of firewood and under Legolas' other arm was another bundle of dry branches.

"Do not interfere; they need to settle this on their own terms." Legolas whispered into her ear, his warm breath making her flinch slightly as it caressed her cold flesh.

She sighed but with a nod turned away as the blonde Elf and redheaded Dwarf laid the firewood down next to the fire. Gimli then walked to his already set up bedroll and clambered into the blankets and placed a folded blanket under his head as a pillow.

Just as she was about to walk around a bit more a leather gloved hand gripped her shoulder a bit harder than one would call friendly. She turned and saw a glaring Boromir.

"What?" She hissed and his blue eyes narrowed.

"Don't think I hadn't heard about you and the elf." He whispered darkly with a shadow of anger on his face.

"So? What of it?" Zamira challenged him as she backed away from the campsite and farther down the riverbank. Boromir followed after her with a fierce look.

"It's sickening that he should be stupidly infatuated with a disgusting creature as yourself." He said and then a pale hand appeared on his shoulder and a frowning Legolas met his gaze.

"Not nearly as sickening as your current behavior. One would think that a noble of Gondor would have more manners." Legolas said quietly and then grabbed her hand quickly and led her back towards the camp leaving the angered man fuming on the rocky shore.

Later on in the evening when the darkness was really setting in, Zamira glanced around and found Boromir had gone to bed and Aragorn that looked like he was about to set up for another night's watch.

"Aragorn, I will take the first watch." She called over the camp and the ranger seemed a bit disgruntled to be kicked out of his nightly job but begrudgingly laid down on his own bedroll. Soon the Fellowship was asleep, though Zamira remained awake and Legolas' bedroll had not yet been occupied by the blonde haired Elf.

She watched the river warily all her senses left open and alert. But when a twig behind her snapped she spun around to meet a pair of sparkling blue eyes.

"You should be sleeping." Zamira said to Legolas who jumped with agile feet into her boulder and sat down.

"I've had too much on mind. Besides I am not yet tired since someone decided to row all day." He said with a playful smile but Zamira did not rise to his jesting. His smile fell and his eyes dulled to a more serious tone.

"I was actually wondering what its like to be a Death Knight. If you wouldn't mind telling me?" He asked and Zamira was surprised.

"Why would you wonder about that?" She asked confused but returned her focus on keeping watch. Her pupil-less eyes darting left and right from one edge of her vision to the other.

"You are a mysterious being to me with such power at your disposal, I am very curious as to what being what you are entails." He said and Zamira nodded in understanding.

"Ask your questions. But keep your voice down; we do not want to disturb anything be it benign or harmful." She said and Legolas nodded in agreement.

"How are Death Knight's created?" He asked.

"There a few possible ways for a Death Knight to be created. Mainly it is when a semi-dead corpse is reanimated by Undead Magic and that person in their living life was a fighter. Though our former-Master was fond of reviving those who served the Holy Light, such as Paladins and Priests. Though in fewer cases there are those followers of the Light become… disenchanted with their faith and turn to the side of darkness." Zamira explained and Legolas nodded in understanding.

"How about your powers? What can your kind do?" He asked and Zamira shook her head lightly.

"Death Knights are not a race, just a different kind of our original race. We are called a class. Just as there are Warrior, Paladins, Hunters, Priests, Shamans, Mages, Warlocks and Druids. I am still considered Human, though I am one of the undead." She said and the blonde Elf seemed confused but nodded.

"Our powers range from three different types: Blood, Frost and Unholy. I mainly dwell within the Frost powers which harness the powers of cold and ice. I can freeze my own blood to become harder to injure and lock my opponents in large blocks of ice. Unholy usually had to do with diseases and rising of the dead. You've seen me raise the dead within Moria. But those who specialize in Unholy can even summon a Gargoyle, a great, fanged, flying beast that rains down Nature Magic from above. Blood is mainly about living and surviving for as long as possible. Though you can also harness the actual powers of blood such as the attack I used against The Watcher. Blood Boil literally boils the blood of my opponent and causes an extreme amount of horrible pain." Zamira said quietly still keeping watch.

"Fascinating. Do you have any weaknesses?" He asked and Zamira shot him a cold gaze. That was not really a question one should ask her but maybe she could trust him with some of that knowledge. I mean after all they were allies in this quest, and Legolas had claimed to have affections towards her.

"Death Knights don't have true weaknesses. But we greatly despise heat and fire since it is such a contrast to our natural temperatures. That is why I often flinch when living beings touch me. Even your skin is like touching a flame for me." She explained and Legolas seemed startled.

"Had I known…" he began to protest, rather loudly, but she cut him off by laying her deathly pale, right hand over his mouth.

"It is not a problem." She said quietly and Legolas lifted her hand away from his lips but let them drag lightly across her skin. It startled her and she slowly pulled her hand away and he shot her a mischievous smile.

"Is there anything else you want to know?" Zamira asked and Legolas nodded.

"You speak so much of your former-Master; I want to know about him. And why you speak so hatefully of him." He said and Zamira hissed under her breath at the mention of him.

"I'd rather not." She said lowly as her eyes narrowed furiously and her breathing became heavier slightly as her rage began to build up.

"I have angered you. I am sorry." Legolas said as he hastily attempted to calm her down, lightly rubbing her nearest hand and whispering quiet soothing words in Elvish. Though even she could not understand them her blood cooled and her rage faded. This elven language was so different than both Thalassian and Darnassian and seemed to work magic in its own way.

Her rage faded away and Zamira was back to her normal self, and by that one would mean a stone cold and harden warrior whose conscious is bathed in the dried and fresh blood of her slain enemies.

"Thank you." She whispered to the Elf at her side who nodded solemnly but then a large yawn ripped through his lips even though he tried to muffle it and hide it behind his sleeve.

"Go to sleep Legolas. You need it." She said and nudged him off her boulder and onto the ground where he landed lightly on the tips of his feet.

"You do as well." He protested in hushed tones but she shook her head.

"Not as much as you or any of the others. Off to bed, now." She said, feeling a bit like a mother speaking to her wayward child. Though this for sure was not one of those moments, the possible feelings between the Elf and her were definitely not that of mother and son. Though such feelings had yet to be truly spoken of, at least on her side, since she was still unsure of the truth of her current situation.

Legolas seemed to accept her demands and turned to walk away but before he had even taken four steps away he turned back around, leapt onto her boulder and planted a light peck upon her cheek.

"Goodnight. See you in the morning." He whispered in her ear and then sprung away.

Shaking her head, Zamira wondered about how such an adult looking being could possess such child-like behavior. She ignored the cheek kiss and once again focused on her watch as she had been so far.

Three hours passed and when the waxing gibbous moon in the sky reached its peak she slid down from the boulder and walked to Aragorn's bedroll and nudged him with her booted foot. His eyes flared open and his hand reached for the new elvish dagger tied to his belt.

"Time for your watch." She mouthed at the now wide awake Ranger who with a small huff of breath rose from his bed and took her former place upon the boulder that served as a watch post. Zamira walked over to the far side of the camp nearest to Gimli and Legolas' bedroll and settled down on the ground with Mistrend at her side and its grip resting in her closed right hand. Her pale purple-ish colored eyelids fluttered shut and she fell asleep.

The morning dawned before the sun had even risen, not that they would be able to tell since heavy gray clouds obscured every last inch of blue sky. Immediately after breakfast had been served to all nine of them the boats were once again in the swift running water. They paddled furiously, hoping to reach the Falls that very day. On either side great sheer cliffs of granite towered above them and the young Hobbits couldn't help but stare up at them in awe.

As they began to clear the cliffs Zamira noticed that carved into the very stone were massive statues of men, much like the great statues outside Stormwind. Both were regal looking men with one of their arms extended upriver. One was a younger looking man with no facial hair to be seen while the other was an aged man. Though both wore robes to their ankles and war-helms upon their heads. She heard audible gasps of awe from the Hobbits and she couldn't blame them for it. They were a marvelous and beautiful sight to behold. As they paddled by Zamira could only wonder at the size of their feet. One toe of theirs was equal to her whole body.

Yet still they paddled onwards. Zamira was once again in the back since she had refused Legolas the opportunity to row their canoe. Beyond the statues the river became even wider than before; it even could have been called a lake. On the far side Zamira noticed a cloud of mist rising from beyond a large rock and she assumed that that was the Falls of Rauros that was their goal to reach with the boats.

They turned off to the right and began paddling furiously for the shore where there even seemed to be the ruins of a previous small fishing port. They beached the boats and climbed on shore. They unpacked the boats of most their goods and made a small camp upon the rocky beach.

"We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats and continue on foot." Aragorn said as the fire was lit and the Hobbits sat around it already making a meal for themselves.

"From there we will approach Mordor from the North." He finished and then Gimli spoke up.

"Oh, yes? Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil, and impassible labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks. And after that, it gets even better. Festering, stinking marshland as far as the eye can see." He protested with an angry face, already red from the exertion of speaking so passionately about his opinions.

"That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf." Aragorn retorted bluntly, his tone which seemed to set Gimli off even more than he was already.

"Recover my…" he began to argue but then gave up and grumbled over to take a small cat nap under the shady boughs of the lake front trees.

Zamira approached Aragorn as he set up a small bedroll for himself on the far end of camp.

"Aragorn, I will be back before the sun sets. I just wish to scout the woods, make sure that we are truly safe here." She said and the Ranger nodded in agreement so she set off into the forest. It was fall so the leaves were heavily coating the ground with a carpet of orange, red and yellow. Her boots crunched on the dry leaves so she moved slowly trying to keep as quiet as she could.

After about ten minutes of walking she came upon a set of white stone ruins. She peered around every corner checking for anything. Beside her, Mistrend pulsed in anxiousness just as she was. There was a battle coming and it was coming fast. Her congealed blood began to flow faster, though still much too slowly for a living being. With hurried movement she was about to un-snap her enchanted satchel when she heard voices and footsteps in the leaves.

"We're all afraid, Frodo. But to let that fear drive us, to destroy what hope we have, don't you see this is madness?" A male voice said, and Zamira recognized it as Boromir's. Dropping her hands from her satchel she crept out of the ruins and along the path of a crumbling stone wall.

"There is no other way." Frodo said and Zamira looked over the wall and found Boromir slowly closing in on Frodo who continued to back away. Like a cat slowly stalking in closer around a trapped mouse.

"I ask only for the strength to defend my people!" Boromir yelled throwing the collected branches in his arms to the ground in a fit of rage. He extended a hand towards Frodo and Zamira quietly began to climb over the wall trying not to make any noise so she could catch Boromir by surprise before he did anything to hurt Frodo. She could tell that The Ring affected him so much more than any of the others. Even Frodo who spent all his time with it pressed against his very skin!

"If you would but lend me the Ring." Boromir said in a pleading voice.

"No." Frodo said as his pace of backing up increased. Zamira could sense his fear so she leapt over the remaining height of the wall and landed on the leaves. Frodo met her eyes but Boromir was already too far gone, his eyes pleaded for her to end his fear, to make him safe once more.

"Why do you recoil? I am no thief." Boromir said still prowling toward the young Hobbit.

"You are not yourself." Frodo said as his fear levels rose. Though fear was like sugar to her tastes this was fear that need not be caused between allies. Even if one was under the twisted control of the evil and possessing band of metal.

"What chance do you think you have? They will find you. They will take the Ring. And you will beg for death before the end!" The man yelled in a furious and insane rage. Zamira increased her pace but still tried to remain silent. Even the slightest provocation could end horribly. She needed to be close range to knock Boromir out and not risk Frodo's life.

Frodo turned and began to walk away. Zamira mentally screamed for him to stop, turning your back on an opponent was the stupidest mistake one could make. She fell into a jog but it was too late.

"You fool!" Boromir screamed and began stalking with powerful strides after the retreating Hobbit.

"It is not yours, save by unhappy chance! It could have been mine!" he yelled as he began running and then launched himself upon Frodo and they began wrestling for the Ring. Zamira ran as fast as she could but it seemed as though time had slowed down for her. If she were in Azeroth she would have claimed it to be the meddling of Nozdormu but this was not Azeroth.

"It should be mine! Give it to me!" He yelled and Frodo squirmed under him trying to push him away with his feet while his hands were pressed tightly over his chest, where the Ring was kept on a chain.

"Give it to me! Give it to me!" Boromir screamed.

"No! No!" Frodo yelled in panic, still trying to fight his way free. Suddenly something happened and Frodo vanished. Zamira slid to a stop and looked around with her eyes, not even their undead, magical powers could pick up on where the Hobbits could have vanished to. Boromir suddenly jerked and then looked around with a wild-eyed stare.

"I see your mind. You will take the Ring to Sauron! You will betray us!" He yelled to the open air.

"You'll go to your death, and the death of us all! Curse you! Curse you and all the Halflings!" he yelled as his voice went rough and he fell face down into the scattered leaves. Freeing herself from the odd time effect Zamira stalked forward like a shadow of death itself and with a pale hand rolled Boromir over fiercely and glared into his insane and somewhat fearful face. She had had enough of this insanity and was ending this foolishness.

"What have you done? You ignorant fool!" She yelled furiously with a shrill banshee-like voice. She kicked him in the gut that made his fly through the air a few feet.

"You weak minded ingrate!" She shrieked and it seemed as Boromir's breathing became heavier and breathier he had returned to himself. His eyes watered and he seemed on the brink of tears causes by his fear and shame.

"What have I done?" He asked in a shaky voice and Zamira's expression softened slightly but she was still furious.

"You've gone and frightened Frodo out of his wits, that's what you've done. The Ring possessed your mind and drove you mad!" She yelled as he surged to his feet and yelled out into the surrounding trees.

"Frodo, I'm sorry!" He screamed into the woods but then in the midst of his cries Zamira unsheathed her Runeblade as she saw dark masses moving in the trees.

"Silence! We have company." She said and he looked around to see the incoming enemies. They were gruesome beasts, clad in black plate armor with jagged blades, oddly shaped swords and a bow here and there. Each somewhere on their face bore a white hand, she didn't know what that meant but it was not matter now her blood sang for battle.

Mistrend swished through the air and sliced through their pathetic armor like butter. Blood sprayed everywhere and as before it was black as night and tasted like an exotic wine on her tongue. Unleashing her true powers from their mask the ground around her was purged of all heat and those around her were encased in a solid block of ice. Piercing the ice with her sword she stabbed their bodies through and through before they ice melted of its own accord and left a puddle of water and black blood flowing steadily over the fall leaves.

More and more came and with them more and more fell to her blade. Her nearly insane laughter cackled through her gray lips that now were sprinkled with droplets of blood from her victims. Every now and then she raised a ghoul from the carnage and let them tear through their former kin with bloodied teeth and partially fleshless bodies. Letting a blood plague ravage one beast's body she watched with glee as the flesh melted away and all that was left was a bare skeleton of dark brown colored bones.

Too preoccupied with her fight she never noticed the smarter beasts sneaking around her on the left and right to continue on their path. She felt the slight burns of wounds on her skin since she had no armor on except for her Spiked Deathdealers which she often used to trip up her attackers. Looking around Zamira noticed that Boromir was no longer with her but before she could take any action to search for him a jagged sword ripped across her thigh and with a shriek that would have deafened most she spun around and decapitated the black beast who had wounded her.

Swinging left and right Mistrend reveled in the bloody bath it was currently partaking in. Finally the flow of enemies stopped and Zamira settled her battle crazed mind and calmed herself down. Slowly Mistrend's glow brightened and a pale aura rose from the bodies around her as Mistrend took after its farthest predecessor and stole the souls of all the living it had killed. Zamira hated that fact that Mistrend would emulate the soul-stealing powers of Frostmourne, though often she would leave a battle before the Vampiric Runeblade could have its dark feast.

Suddenly a dark horn echoed out through the trees from not all too far away. Zamira took off like a bullet, running as fast as she could through the trees with Mistrend singing alongside her loving the fact that more bloodshed was still to come.

She leapt through a gap between two trees and landed heavily atop another one of the plated beasts. They seemed to be a bulkier version of this world's Orcs so she assumed they were an Orc of some sort. She wrenched Mistrend through its chest and then continued on her way slicing through the Orcs she ran across and then passed as their heavy bodies collapsed to the ground.

Across a dry streambed she saw Boromir fighting off many of the Orcs with Pippin and Merry fleeing farther into the woods. She sprinted across the stream and landed next to Boromir and sliced down an enemy he was about the kill.

Holding out a hand she called upon her Runic Power and let loose a Howling Blast of cold air at the Orcs and froze them solid, it was so cold that those that were within ten feet of the blast fell to the ground and shattering into small shards of black flesh.

From behind Boromir and Zamira there was Merry and Pippin who picked up small stones from around them and chucked them at the oncoming hordes of black Orcs. For every Orcs they sliced down it seemed that five more replaced them. Summoning a circle of Death and Decay she let the corrupted ground melt the flesh from their opponents' feet as they retreated even farther.

Out of nowhere a large black arrow whistled through the air and pierced directly into Boromir's shoulder, just below his left collarbone. His body jerked and twitched from the momentum behind the projectile and he dropped to his knees. But within moments was back on his feet and still he fought on with strength that Zamira could respect greatly. She scanned around from the archer while she too continued to strike down Black Orc after Black Orc.

Just as she found the archer, it released another arrow into Boromir's stomach. With a shriek she finished off her current opponent and raced over to where the man had dropped to his knees once again. Merry and pippin seemed frozen with shock but Zamira shrieked at them to run away. They didn't listen since the clanging on armor and weapons was too loud and their attention was on the man in front of them.

Still Boromir rose to his feet and began fighting once again. The grip on his sword was loose and one-handed but still he fought on and Zamira finally reached his side. She swung up Mistrend cleaved open the skull of another Black Orc. Just as she was about to help Boromir, a third arrow whistled through the air and lodged itself in the man beside her. He dropped to his knees once again but this time Zamira moved as she should have in the beginning. She planted her feet firmly before Boromir and glared at the archer who narrowed his sickening yellow eyes and bore his dirtied fangs in an evil smirk.

He raised a massive and twisted looking black bow and drew back another arrow. Two more Orcs ran at her from both sides and she swung Mistrend around to decapitate one. While the other managed to slice another gash across her skin but this time over her stomach, which shredded that part of her tunic and undershirt. Dark red blood, that for once didn't look black ran over her pale skin in a small stream but she as she turned and struck down the other Orc she heard the whistling of another arrow.

She felt the burn right next to her left breast and looked down with widened glowing blue eyes to see a black arrow buried deep in her chest, directly through her heart. From behind her she heard a battle cry in high pitched children's voices and sees Merry and Pippin leading their own charge. Still paralyzed from the shock of the arrow she could do nothing as she saw them picked up and hauled away by the Black Orcs.

She heard faint gasps for breath from behind her and looked slowly to see Boromir still alive but fast approaching the brink of death. She looked up and met the yellow eyes of the archer who was now only standing five feet away from them with an angered look on his face. She knew what he was asking himself. He was wondering why they weren't dead yet.

For Boromir, Zamira knew not that answer to that question but she planned to show this monster why she was still alive. With a banshee-like shriek, as she was well-known for she swung out a hand and made eight ghouls rise from the corpses around her. With a dark chuckle she advanced on the archer with a menacing grin.

"Big mistake." She hissed between her blood stained teeth and prepared to strike down this worthless hunk of flesh. Her ghouls had drool dripping from their open maws and the archer seemed afraid of the new monsters closing in on him. With hasty movement he drew back his fourth arrow and quickly shot it into her body. It pierced the already open gash on her stomach and the newly felt pain stopped Zamira dead in her tracks.

The ghouls made a harsh keening noise before crumbling into piles of rotting flesh as her Runic Power that brought them to life faded away. Her glowing eyes rolled back into her head but just before she lost consciousness she saw Aragorn leap from behind a nearby tree and attack the archer.

She woke not seconds later and with slow and careful movements she searched through the leaves to find Mistrend, which she had dropped when she had fallen. Hearing the clashing of metal and saw Aragorn being knocked to the ground by the archer. Picking up her sword Zamira climbed to her knees and held her Runeblade with one-hand as she wound up slightly. With all her remaining strength she hurled the blade at the archer and even though the blade didn't cause any bloody damage it still crashed decently into its side. During the distraction Aragorn had managed to clamber to his feet and began to fight the archer once again.

Zamira struggled to her feet and limped over to where Mistrend lay and picked it up with her right hand then wandered off in the direction she thought the river was.

Legolas and Gimli dashed through the trees and came upon a most saddening scene. Aragorn leaning over Boromir's now still and cold body with a mournful expression on his face. As the Ranger rose from the man's corpse only then did the blonde Elf realize that many were missing. Merry and Pippin were nowhere to be found, Sam and Frodo too were gone. His sky blue eyes widened in fear as he looked around in a panicked state.

"Aragorn, where is Zamira?" He asked and Aragorn looked up startled.

"When I arrived she had been struck by two arrows and had many open and bleeding wounds. I do not know if she survived. But I know not much of her so she may be fine.

Meanwhile Zamira had finally limped to the beach and saw Frodo and Sam together in one of the boats, steadily rowing to the opposite shore. They looked back and met her eyes with their own; they seemed to fear that she would tell on them but she shook her head and raised a hand in farewell.

She continued to watch them row until behind her she heard branches snap and Legolas came tearing out of the trees with a panicked expression on his face. Gimli was not far behind his with a worried face as well which surprised her since her and the Dwarf had not bonded quite yet.

"You're alive!" The elf cried and as he approached to embrace her stopped and noticed the two arrows stick straight through her body entirely. His eyes widened with fear and he rushes up and lightly touches one of the arrow shafts.

"Sweet Eru! How can you be like this with these sorts of wounds?" he asked and Gimli too approached with his jaw slack and his eyes slightly bugging out of his skull.

"I can withstand most wounds, and I have a high pain tolerance. Now can you just pull these arrows out?" Zamira said but then her eyes met Boromir's corpse and her glowing eyes dulled slightly, which showed her sadness. She was surprised by her wild emotions, though often after a fight she was more susceptible to them.

"So he is gone then?" She asked solemnly and Aragorn nodded and Zamira noticed a clean track across his dirty skin and knew that he had shed a single tear over Boromir's death.

"Yes. We shall send him over the Falls." He said and Zamira nodded pushing a fretting Legolas away and going to help Aragorn lay Boromir's body and things into one of the boats. But before that was done Aragorn unlaced the metal plated vambraces on Boromir's forearms and laced them onto his own. They sent the boat off into the current and watched sadly as it flowed away and then tumbled over the edge into the watery abyss.

"We need to take these arrows out and get your wounds bandaged!" Legolas said loudly as he pulled her away from the shore.

"Just pull them out, Legolas. I'll use my Heavy Frostweave Bandages and a Healing Potion and I'll be as good as new. All the damaged will be mended within minutes." Zamira said as she rummaged around in her satchel for the strips of dark blue, glittering cloth that gave off a tingling cold aura and the flask filled with a cherry red liquid.

"Oh." Was all the elf said before he was moved aside by Aragorn who with quick and deft hands broke the arrow tips off and then pulled the shaft out of her chest and then repeated the procedure on her stomach.

"Thank you." Zamira hissed as she felt the lake breeze touch the insides of the wound, which caused a bit of stinging. She quickly pulled out a new tunic, which was a dark blue color, and then took off the ruined one. Legolas turned away since he didn't know she wore an undershirt with the tips of his ears turned pink from embarrassment and Gimli chuckled gruffly.

She wrapped her stomach wound and the wound on her thigh with the bandages and then chugged down the Healing Potion and shivered as the cinnamon tasting, burning hot liquid surged down her throat and then began to work its magic on her wounds healing them within seconds. Unwrapping the used bandages she made sure all the wounds were closed and then tossed them into the river and put the empty potion flask back in her satchel.

Legolas turned back around and then untied the last boat and began to pull it towards the water.

"Hurry! Frodo and Sam have reached the eastern shore." He said but Gimli did not move and neither did Aragorn who was leaning against a tree thinking deeply while he stared down at Boromir's vambraces that now would protect his own arms.

"You mean not to follow them." Legolas said as he realized what the Ranger was thinking.

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands." Aragorn said with a nod. Zamira looked to the far shore and saw the two young Hobbits vanish into the forest.

"Then it has all been in vain. The Fellowship has failed." Gimli said in a finite tone but Zamira knew that was not the case. She stepped forward towards Legolas and Aragorn and shook her head.

"No." She said and it seemed Aragorn would finish her thought for her.

"Not if we hold true to each other. We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torture and death. Not while we have strength left. Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light. Let's hunt some Orc." Aragorn said as he readied himself and turned to the forest and began running up the hill.

Zamira took off after him with Mistrend sheathed on her back and she heard Gimli and Legolas take off after her.

"Yes!" Gimli yelled and they made their way after the fast traveling band of Black Orcs through the forest and towards whatever might come before them.

**WHOA-NESS MY READERS! WE HAVE FINALLY COME TO THE END OF PART ONE! THIRTEEN CHAPTERS TO COVER THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING! AND NOW ONWARDS TO THE TWO TOWERS! BAM! KA-POW! SHI-BANG! **

**But really I can't believe I've made it this far! It's so exciting! Anyways I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and let's hope Part Two gets even better.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note:**

**Dedications: To all of you who reviewed, favorite and story-alerted… yadda, yadda, yadda. ONWARDS!**

**-Sharnorasian Empire: woohoo for ICC! Anywho blah, blah, blah. I have nothing to say to you since I already talk to you too much as it is.**

**-Sentinal of zeus: Thank you for the review! I'm glad you think that Eternal Undeath is the best WoW LotR X-Over, which makes me really happy.**

**-Seeed-King: It is totally okay that you're German. I'm actually 60% German so all is cool. I agree, Warlocks are pretty beastly, but I of course tend to play more of a melee class. Woot woot for the DKs and Paladins! And yeah I think I've paced the romance well and made Zamira a very believable character, for a Death Knight. I'm glad you enjoyed the Flashback it's actually a hinting for the up and coming sequel that will begin once Eternal Undeath ends. And yes that Draenei Pally got what he deserved for being a jerkface! And yeah see I was going to take my time with the next chapter but I just woke in the morning and the words just started flowing so I got it all done in one day.**

**Disclaimer: World of Warcraft belongs to Blizzard Entertainment. Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and all his affiliates and so on and so forth.**

**Claimer: Zamira Snowfang, all OCs (unless specified that they are not) and all thing you do not recognize from WoW of LotR belong to me. And anyone who dares use them without my permission will face the wrath of a Scottish Broadsword to the face! (And most likely gruesome disembowelment by Sharnorasian Empire)**

**Also in this chapter there are two itty bitty lines in Elvish so as usual, such different languages will be in Italics. Also later on there is a word that concerns arrows and yes it is spelt nocked, not knocked like one would originally think. I even looked it up in the dictionary… it is spelt that way.**

**I'd also like to point out that if you realize I am following the movies then I would like to add that I have the extended edition so there may be scenes that you don't recognize from the normal cut.**

**Here is the first chapter of Part Two that will follow the events of The Two Towers. Also to be known as Chapter Fourteen. Enjoy!**

They had made it out of the forest by nightfall, but Aragorn had not felt safe enough and dared not stop because of his increasing worry for Merry and Pippin. Legolas had passed her long ago; Zamira knew she was never meant for speed in running, just endurance. Behind her trailed the redheaded Dwarf who lacked both speed and endurance. Zamira could hear his huffing breath from where she ran.

The three days had passed since they began their pursuit, setting a steady pace at a run. As the sun rose and they were still on the plains of dried grass and rocks deeply buried in the ground here and there. Just as they crested a hill Aragorn came to a stop and held up a hand for them as well.

He dropped to the ground and laid his head upon a rock. Legolas took a high vantage point and scoured the plains with his keen elvish eyes hoping to see anything. Zamira stood silently off to the side since she had nothing better to do that recuperate the little strength that she had lost. Gimli ran up thirty seconds later and when he saw them stopped he made a small noise of approval through his panting and then leaned upon his axe to rest.

"Their pace has quickened." Aragorn said after a minute of listening and rose from the rock.

"They must have caught out scent. Hurry!" He yelled and they took off again with Legolas sprinting lightly after Aragorn and Zamira sticking back with Gimli who seemed extremely worn out.

"Come on, Gimli! Hurry up, Zamira!" Yelled Legolas from where he ran and Zamira, abandoning the lagging Dwarf, took after him with Mistrend lightly bouncing on her back in its baldric.

"Three days and nights pursuit. No food. No rest. And no sign of our quarry, but what bare rock can tell." Gimli said loud and angrily as he began running in Zamira's trail as they once again made trails over the open plains. They raced along the edge of a great stony chasm and up and down hill after hill.

As they came to a gap between to sheer stone faces Aragorn slowed and examined the heavily trampled grass that seemed to be mostly muddied ground. He made a noise and they all turned their heads to look at him as he pried something out of the beaten grass. It looked to be a disfigured version of the brooch they all bore that held their elvish cloaks together.

"Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall." He said and Legolas jogged over and looked down at his kneeling friend.

"They may yet be alive." The blonde Elf said.

"I do not think they would capture Merry and Pippin if but to kill them later on. There was a purpose for their captivity." Zamira said and she looked at the brooch in the Ranger's calloused hands and then up into the sky blue eyes of the elf.

"Yes, I agree." Legolas replied and Aragorn rose from the ground.

"Less than a day ahead of us. Come." He said as they once again took off running. From behind them they heard a crash of metal and saw Gimli losing his balance, falling and then rolling down an incline.

"Come, Gimli! We're gaining on them!" Legolas called and then ran off while Zamira hung back for the Dwarf incase he was too tired to run. In which case she would pick him up, whether it be against his will or not.

"I'm wasted on cross-country. We Dwarves are natural sprinters. Very dangerous over short distances." Gimli said as he began running again and Zamira seeing that he had enough energy ran faster to catch up with the Elf and Human.

From the shadowed gap they came to the top of a rocky prominence and Legolas as usual took the highest vantage point and gazed over the plains.

"Rohan. Home of the Horse-Lords." Aragorn said as he too looked over the dried grassy plains scattered with large boulders.

"There's something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures. Sets its will against us." He continued as if there was something wrong with the land he now looked upon and that it was somehow aiding those they hunted. As they began to jump down from the rocks Legolas sprinted ahead onto another rocky point and squinted at the surroundings.

"Legolas! What do your Elf-eyes see?" Aragorn asked the Elf.

"The Uruks turn northeast. They are taking the Hobbits to Isengard." He yelled back and a dark shadow passed across Aragorn's face.

"Saruman." The Ranger said and Zamira had a puzzled expression on her face.

"Who is it that controls these speedy beasts?" She asked and Aragorn turned to look at her.

"Saruman the White, he is a wizard of our world. Much like Gandalf, except more powerful and he has turned to the side of evil and allied with Sauron." He explained and Zamira nodded now understanding.

They took off once more and as the sun set they continued to run, their fourth night of pursuit, through and through. Gimli tried to keep up but his strength that had kept him with them was lagging. The following morning they sped even more with the darkness of night not blinding their footsteps. Though even in the darkest night Legolas and Zamira could see perfectly fine.

A gray haze clung to the sky as they progressed across the plains at their hurried pace, following the Uruks' trail like a hound on a fox.

"Keep breathing. That's the key. Breathe." Gimli said under his breath from behind her and Zamira felt her gray lips twitch in slight amusement even though the Dwarf's struggles were not something to truly be laughed at.

"They've run as if the whips of their masters were behind them." Legolas said as they careened down a hill at a full sprint and tried to close the ever widening gap between them and their prey.

Once again they ran through the day and into the night only stopping for a short while to eat and drink some of what was left of their food and water stores. Then they continued onwards. As the sun rose behind them Legolas glanced back his sky blue eyes lingering momentarily on Zamira who had just crested the hill behind him followed by Gimli. But then his eyes looked to the reddish-orange sun that rose behind them all.

"A red sun rises. Blood has been spilled this night." Was all he said as Zamira and Gimli caught up and ran past him. As the sun rose higher they ran down a small hill and stopped at the small valley between the two.

From their left there was a shrill horse's whinny and Aragorn looked up with wide eyes. Then the thundering of horse's hooves came and they sprinted out of the open ground to hide behind a group of rocks. Over the crest came a large group of men riding on horseback, fully armored with various weapons at their sides.

Aragorn saw the symbol on their shields and shot Legolas a glance and then turned to Zamira.

"Put your hood up. Your eyes are too unnatural and will upset those who do not know you." The Ranger whispered and she nodded understanding his logic. She pulled the grayish-green hood over her head and pulled it far enough down so that it shadowed her eyes. They stood up and Aragorn led them back out into the open facing the back of the galloping riders.

"Riders of Rohan, what news from the Mark?" Aragorn yelled over the thunder of hooves and apparently they heard him as the one rider at their front motioned with his spear and they turned back. They galloped back in their direction and soon formed a tight-knit circle around their group of four with their spears lowered and held threateningly only inches from their skin. From their ranks the leading rider appeared with a stern expression on under his helm.

"What business does an Elf, two Men and Dwarf have in the Riddermark? Speak quickly." Their leader demanded with a deep male voice and Zamira was slightly affronted at being called a man. Even the cloak she wore hid not the tell-tale curves of a woman. This man must have horrible eyesight.

"Give me your name, horse-master, and I shall give you mine." Gimli said in a gruff tone from his low position near the ground as he looked up at the man. Aragorn made an exasperated expression and rolled his eyes.

The leader dismounted from his horse and walked forward with a warrior's swagger filled with pride.

"I would cut off your head, Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground." He said with contempt but then an arrow was pointed at his head before any of them could blink.

"You would die before your stroke fell." Legolas said menacingly and Zamira was surprised at the serious and battle-hardened expression on the Elf's face.

The spears now switched all their attention to Legolas and Zamira was having none of that and as she unleashed a bit of her power she froze each and every spearhead into a rounded block of ice with a soft snap of her ungloved fingers.

Their leader seemed startled and looked around as if looking for a Mage or magic-user, but Zamira smirked under her hood and let out a quiet chuckle. But her laughter went noticed and the leader stomped over to her with an enraged face and grabbed her tunic wrenching her forward and putting his face near her own. But still he could not see her face.

"This witchcraft is yours?" He demanded and Zamira smirked.

"Not witchcraft, but yes it is mine. I suggest you let me go, unless you want to lose your hand… permanently." She said in her double-timbre voice that startled the horse rider even more so he let go and stumbled backwards.

"A demoness then?" He asked with a shaking voice and the still ice frozen spears turning in her direction.

"No, just a woman." She said before she heard the sound of a lowering bow and looked to see Aragorn stepping up.

"Enough of this." The Ranger said and then turned to the still semi-frightened leader.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Gimli, son of Glóin, Legolas of the Woodland Realm and Commander Zamira Snowfang. We are friends of Rohan and of Théoden, your king." Aragorn said hastily trying to ease the tension that built up.

"Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe. Not even his own kin." The leader said as he pulled off his helm to reveal a young face, covered in a reddish-golden beard, mustache and mane of long, same colored hair. As he said this the spears were retracted and seeing that the threat had gone Zamira with another snap of her fingers melted the ice around the spearheads.

"Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over these lands." He explained.

"My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished." He continued and then took a step closer to Aragorn.

"The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say, as an old man hooded and cloaked. And everywhere, his spies slip past our nets." He said accusingly, as if they themselves were the spies.

"We are no spies. We track a party of Uruk-hai westward across the plain. They have taken two of our friends captive." Aragorn said with an honest face.

"The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night." The leader said bluntly.

"But there were two Hobbits. Did you see two Hobbits with them?" Gimli asked in a panicked tone.

"They would be small. Only children to your eyes." Aragorn continued trying to jog the leader's memory.

"We left none alive. We piled the carcasses and burned them." He said with a sad face and gestured through the mob of horse bodies to a plume of thick gray smoke on the horizon. Their faces fell into heavy expressions of sadness except for Zamira who kept a stony face though on the inside she mourned the loss of the two humorous young Hobbits. Because for sure Merry and Pippin were now certainly dead.

"Dead?" Gimli asked in disbelief and the leader nodded sadly.

"I am sorry." He said and they spent of moment of silence until the leader whistled shrilly.

"Hasufel! Arod!" He called loudly and out of the crowd two riderless horses walked up of their own accord. One was a bright chestnut and the other was a white-gray each clad with a face plate and all the tack they would need including a bridle, girth and saddle.

"May these horses bear you to better fortune that their former masters. Farewell." The leader said as he placed his helmet back on his head and mounted his own steed.

"Look for your friends. But do not trust to hope. It has forsaken these lands. We ride north!" He called to his fellows and they began galloping away in the opposite direction. Soon the thunder of hooves faded and they were left standing alone with the two new horses.

Zamira took a few steps away and looked out at the column of smoke with sad eyes and then heard a quiet argument behind her. She looked back and saw Legolas and Gimli whispering harshly to one another. Every now and then the blonde Elf would make a gesture towards her without actually looking. Zamira then realized he was trying to make Gimli ride with Aragorn so that she could ride with him. It also brought to mind that she had entirely forgotten that she could summon her mounts now.

With a swift hand swipe over the ground to her right a cloud of dark gray smoke appeared and from within she heard the quiet and echoing nicker of Oblivion. Without taking the time to greet her trusty steed she swung up into the saddle and then loving stroked the skeletal, gray haired neck of her Deathcharger.

"Come we must search that pile!" She called from atop Oblivion who neighed in agreement. Aragorn was already in the saddle of Hasufel while Gimli and Legolas continued to argue. Taking up her reigns she walked her horse over to Legolas and then Oblivion bumped the Elf with one of his horns. The blonde turned in surprise and Zamira raised an eyebrow at him.

"Get on your horse. Gimli is to ride with you." She said in an ordering tone and within seconds the red-haired Dwarf was in the saddle of Arod and Legolas swung up in front of him. Then turning her undead horse around she nudged his ribs with her booted feet and with a click of her tongue they took off at a gallop.

Within moments they had covered the distance between them and the smoking pile of corpses. It was a grotesque sight, though it was one that Zamira felt she truly could have reveled in. A few of the Uruks' heads were impaled upon spears with their mouths open in painful grimaces. She reigned in Oblivion, who as well could smell the scent of carnage and was on edge as he too craved for battle just as any who had served for The Scourge did.

Aragorn dismounted first and then Legolas who had to aid Gimli because of his height. Zamira swung down from her saddle and held onto Oblivion's reigns just in case he let his hunger get to him. Gimli dashed over to the smoldering pile and began rummaging through the charred bodies trying to find any sign of Merry or Pippin. From the wreckage he pulled out a blackened strap of leather with an ornate but severely damaged dagger sheath on it.

"It's one of their wee belts." He stated as he held it up in the air with a mournful and grieving expression on his wrinkled and squashed face. Legolas looked down and began to mumble in Elvish, while Zamira led Oblivion off to the side and then spaced out at the horizon. From behind her she heard movement in the grass as Aragorn kicked an Uruk's helmet and then let out a yell of anguish as he dropped to his knees.

"We failed them." Gimli said as he still held on to the remains of the belt. That wrenched Zamira from her stupor and she turned back just in time to see Aragorn begin to crawl on his hands and knees following some sort of trail in the grass. She quickly patted Oblivion on the nose and dismissed him back into the realm from which he came from and then joined Legolas and Gimli where they watched their companion examine the ground with his sharp eyes.

"A Hobbit lay here. And the other." He said as his eyes roamed around in that area trying to follow their path.

"They crawled." He said as he moved forward once again.

"Their hands were bound." The Ranger said as he rose to his feet but his steel gray eyes still remained locked on the ground. The three of them followed Aragorn as he walked with small steps following the trail that Merry and Pippin seemed to have taken. Suddenly from buried beneath the grass and dirt he pulled out a severed piece of rope and held it out in the air.

"Their bonds were cut." He said, his hope rising at the very miniscule chance that the young Hobbits they followed had survived. Aragorn's pace quickened as he followed every twist and turn that their path took.

"They ran over here. They were followed." He said as he saw a larger boot print following the small Hobbit tracks. His strides lengthened as he jogged along the trail and they began to jog behind him as he led them away from the grounds of the late night battle.

"Their tracks lead away from the battle, into Fangorn Forest." Aragorn said as he came to a stop at the edge of the dark and thick forest that lay before them.

"Fangorn? What madness drove them in there?" Gimli asked from beside Zamira and she looked down at the Dwarf.

"Desperation to get away. A living beings flight response to a threat on their life." She said simply understanding the exact nature of fear and what it drove people to do… and how she enjoyed it.

"No matter how haunted they may say this forest is, we still cannot abandon Merry and Pippin. Remember they were followed into the woods." Aragorn said swiftly as he walked briskly into the forest and under the leading shadowed boughs. Legolas was quick to follow with Zamira close on his heels. Gimli hesitated for a moment but then when the other three had vanished already into the forest did he decide and jog in after his fellows.

The forest seemed to only get darker, though here and there a single sunbeam made its way through the canopy. They walked for minutes and still Aragorn followed their trail. Gimli walked over to a bush and looked at the leaves; Zamira walked over as well and looked curiously at the black goo on the dark green leaf. Gimli ran his finger through the goo and then touched his finger to his tongue and then spit it back out.

"Orc blood." He said with a disgusted tone and looked around warily. Legolas had his bow out and was peering through the branches. Aragorn continued on, following the scuffling footsteps of the Hobbits with Legolas following him, Zamira following Legolas and Gimli bringing up the back. They followed a trickling stream for a while before the trail broke away and delved deeper into the shadows.

The Ranger stopped for a moment and kneeled to the ground and looked at indentations in the ground.

"These are strange tracks." He said and Zamira went over to look at them as well. They looked like a smaller version of a Druid's Tree Form's tracks.

"They look like something I know from my world. There is a class called a Druid, and when they specialize in healing they have the ability to transform into a Healing Tree. Their footprints look very similar to these, except theirs are much smaller." Zamira said and Aragorn seemed surprised and Legolas looked down with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"The air is so close in here." Gimli commented as he walked warily between two gnarled tree trunks.

"This forest is old. Very old. Full of memory and anger." Legolas said as he listened to every sound he could. From around them it seemed as if the trees themselves were talking to themselves as groans and the creaking of boughs echoed from around them. Gimli in surprise brought up his axe and looked around wildly.

"The trees are speaking to each other." Legolas said and looked around warily. Aragorn looked around and spotted Gimli with his axe up and ready.

"Gimli! Lower your axe." The Ranger said with a hand motion meant to show him to lower his weapon. The Dwarf seemed surprised and quickly lowered his axe and Legolas shot him a reproachful look.

"They have feelings, my friend. The Elves began it. Waking up the trees, teaching them to speak." The blonde Elf said and Zamira nodded.

"The Night Elves too have creatures that bear resemblance to these talking trees. They are called Ancients, old spirits of the forest brought to life by the Druid's magic. They speak as well, though in a more sophisticated tongue. Easily understood by all sentient races." Zamira said to the Elf and he seemed intrigued by the idea of such marvelous creatures.

"Talking trees. What do trees have to talk about? Except the consistence of squirrel droppings." Gimli commented and Zamira nearly laughed. It was true, what could an actual tree have to say to another of its kind? But before she could ponder that thought Legolas and Aragorn set off once more, following the trail of the Hobbits. Suddenly Legolas seemed on high alert and held his bow at the ready.

_"Aragorn, nad no ennas. _(Aragorn, something's out there.)" Legolas said and Aragorn quickly followed after him as the Elf scoured the forest with his eyes and listened for any sound. Looking over his friend's shoulder Aragorn peered into the forest's shadows as well while Gimli and Zamira stood at the back ready for something to attack.

_"Man cenich?_ (What do you see?)" The Ranger asked in hushed tones.

"The White Wizard approaches." Legolas whispered back and with his eyes gestured behind them. Gimli tensed and Zamira slowly began to raise her hand up to the grip of Mistrend, which was pulsing with anxiousness at the possibility of more blood to be spilt.

"Do not let him speak. He will put a spell on us." Aragorn whispered and then wrapped his hand around the grip of his own sword. Zamira then let her senses broaden out and her undead aura brushed against something familiar. It was not the auras of her companions either since Aragorn gave off the aura of a Warrior, Legolas that of a Hunter and Gimli that of another Warrior. This one seemed to be a Mage, but a Mage she had met before… somehow.

"We must be quick." Aragorn said as he withdrew his sword from its scabbard, Gimli tucked his axe close to his body and Legolas began to stroke the fletching on his arrow that was already nocked on his bowstring. Then as one they spun around and attacked.

Gimli threw one of his axes while Legolas released an arrow which the glowing white figure blocked with ease as if they had thrown large, feather stuffed pillows at it. Zamira hastily threw a Death Coil from one of her hands but looked on sadly as the unholy energy was vanquished by the pure white light. To her left Aragorn shouted in alarm as his hand-and-a-half sword began to glow orange as the wizard's magic heated the metal.

"You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits." The glowing figure said in a voice that seemed to be two people at the same time.

"Where are they?" Aragorn demanded, even though his enforcement now lay cooling upon the ground.

"They passed this way the day before yesterday. They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?" The figure asked and Zamira stepped forward with a wary expression. For a moment Legolas' hand was on her own but she shrugged him off.

"Should it?" She asked accusingly, narrowing her glowing blue eyes as their pupil less depths reacted to the bright light.

"I don't know. That is for you to decide." The figure said in a sage-like voice and Zamira narrowed her eyes even more so she was all but squinting against the light as she attempted to move forward but some sort of magical shield that was invisible kept her back.

"Who are you? Show yourself!" Aragorn yelled angrily as the light began to dim and then revealed a startlingly familiar face. The sparkling blue eyes, wrinkled face that showed both age and wisdom. But he had now changed his hair was no longer the smoky gray color but a stark white, like freshly fallen snow, as was his mustache and beard. His robes too were white and he bore a new staff unlike the gnarled branch he had wielded before.

"It cannot be." Aragorn said to himself as he strode forward slightly and looked into their long lost companion's eyes. Carefully he also picked up his sword, which had fully cooled off the ground, and sheathed it away in its scabbard at his hip.

"Forgive me. I mistook you for Saruman." Legolas said as he knelt to the ground momentarily with an embarrassed expression and the tips of his ears turning a light pink color.

"I am Saruman. Or rather, Saruman as he should have been." The wizard said with a humble smile on his wrinkled features.

"You fell." The Ranger said as he took another step forward.

"Through fire and water. From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought with the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. Darkness took me and I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead and every day was as long as a life age of the Earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again. I've been sent back until my task is done." The white wizard explained and they all listened eagerly. Aragorn stepped forward once again until he was but a few feet away from the wizard.

"Gandalf." The ragged Ranger whispered.

"Gandalf? Yes. That was what they used to call me." He said and Aragorn nodded as did Zamira who stepped forward followed by Gimli and Legolas to see the returned wizard for themselves.

"Gandalf the Grey. That was my name." He said in remembrance.

"Gandalf." Gimli said with joy and a smile upon his squashed face.

"I am Gandalf the White. And I come back to you now at the turn of the tide." Gandalf said and they all smiled in happiness that Merry and Pippin were safe and that Gandalf had returned.

The wizard soon led them back to a small campsite where there was a doused out fire and a grayish green cloak much like their own hung up on a tree branch. Gandalf fastened the cloak on and then began to lead them out of the forest at a brisk pace.

"One stage of your journey is over. Another begins. We must travel to Edoras with all speed." Gandalf said as he walked.

"Edoras? That is no short distance." Gimli said gruffly.

"We hear of trouble in Rohan. It goes ill with the King." Aragorn said to Gandalf.

"Yes, and it will not be easily cured." Gandalf replied.

"Then we have run all this way for nothing? Are we to leave those poor Hobbits here in this horrid, dark, dank, tree-infested…?" Gimli said angrily but then the groaning of the tree cut him off and he looked around afraid of a possible punishment the forest would unleash upon his short body.

"I mean, charming, quite charming forest." He remedied to appease the trees which quieted quickly.

"It was more than mere chance that brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn. A great power has been sleeping here for many long years. The coming of Merry and Pippin will be like the falling of small stones that starts an avalanche in the mountains." Gandalf explained and Gimli felt very much like a scolded child.

"In one thing you have not changed, dear friend." Aragorn said and Gandalf leaned in towards him.

"Huh?" Gandalf asked understanding the Ranger's point.

"You still speak in riddles." He said and they laughed together lightly. Legolas cracked a smile and Zamira felt her lips twitch slightly at the warm-hearted display of kinship.

"A thing is about to happen that has not happened since the Elder Days. The Ents are going to wake up and find that they are strong." Gandalf said as he looked around into the forest as if they were already in the presence of those he spoke about.

"Strong? Oh, that's good." Gimli said as he looked around as the trees made a quiet groaning noise once again and he was still wary of their behavior.

"So stop your fretting, Master Dwarf. Merry and Pippin are quite safe. In fact they are much safer than you are about to be." Gandalf said as he walked off into the bushes with Zamira and Aragorn right on his heels. Walking a bit faster Zamira came to walk directly to the left of Gandalf who looked over at her from the corner of his eyes.

"Wizard, I am familiar with the term 'Ent'. My world has them too. Though seemingly unlike this world's, our Ents aren't very friendly." Zamira stated as she felt she needed to put her own two cents in and the returned Wizard met her gaze even as he walked.

"Really now? That is interesting, this world of yours intrigues me more and more, the more I learn about it." He said with a kind smile and Zamira nodded.

"Yes, my world is filled with many awe inspiring sights. But also great evil, in many forms." She replied and the Wizard nodded.

"It seems that all worlds suffer from some plague of evil." Gandalf said wisely with a sad expression as they continued to walk onwards.

Minutes passed and soon their surroundings seemed to get brighter and sunlight began pour in through the canopy more often. Within seconds they had emerged back into the open, grassy plains that rolled out before their eyes. For a few moments they mere stood still and basked in the sunlight that they had not seen or felt on their skin in the few days they had been traveling through Fangorn Forest. Except for Zamira who really wasn't all too fond of sunlight since it irritated her eyes a little bit. The undead, lich's magic could adjust to sunlight but it caused an uncomfortable sensation in her brain.

There was a quiet nickering noise and from around a corner of the forest Hasufel and Arod came trotting up and were reunited with their new masters. Legolas grabbed Arod's reigns while Aragorn did the same for Hasufel's. Zamira was about to summon Oblivion when Gandalf suddenly whistled loudly and it carried a magical and musical tune to it as it echoed across the empty plains.

In an answering manner a horse's neigh echoed back and over the crest of a nearby knoll a stark white horse galloped into view. They all turned and watched the majestic beast swiftly cover the ground between it and its master who had called.

"That is one of the Mearas, unless my eyes be cheated by some spell." Legolas said in awe as his sky blue eyes followed the horse's approach. As it reached them Gandalf extended a hand with a warm smile on his elderly face.

"Shadowfax. He is the lord of all horses and has been my friend through many dangers." Gandalf said as he stroked the stallion's muscular neck.

Zamira too admired the horse, but she would never trade a living beast for her own trusty Deathcharger. Waving a hand over the ground to her right the same cloud of scentless smoke appeared and Oblivion appeared from within it. He shook his horned and armored head and bumped his black snout against her shoulder while she lovingly patted him on the nose.

"What a peculiar beast." She heard Gandalf say and looked to see the Wizard looking at her mount with wide eyes. Oblivion turned his head and gazed back at the magic-user, his own glowing blue eyes examining the elderly wizard. His glowing white hooves shifted on the ground and as he moved the skulls on his armor clacked together and the sound of sliding metal plates was heard.

"The traditional steed of a Death Knight. Our fellow undead partner. Unless one was to acquire another undead mount, as I have." Zamira said simply as she swung into the hard saddle of her Deathcharger and took up the reigns in one of her hands.

"Another intriguing tidbit I have now learned. But enough of this blather, we have must distance to cover and only so long to do it." Gandalf said as he too mounted his steed, with Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas getting on their horses as well.

They galloped through the remainder of the day and well into the night before stopping to eat from their stores of food, of which most were now kept inside Zamira's enchanted satchel because of their necessity to travel light and fast. Gandalf stood on the edge of a precipice and looked out over the plains towards a horizon of sharp peaks with an evil red glow coming from behind them.

Legolas had gone off to scout around and Gimli was already out like a light. Zamira and Aragorn had been sitting down at the fire resting until the ranger rose from his place and walked over to the Wizard. Zamira too rose from her place and while Aragorn stood to Gandalf's right she stood on his left.

"The veiling shadow that glowers in the east takes shape. Sauron will suffer no rival. From the summit of Barad-dûr his Eye watched ceaselessly. But he not so mighty yet that he is above fear. Doubt ever gnaws at him. The rumors have reached him. That the Heir of Númenor still lives. Sauron fears you, Aragorn. He fears what you may become. And so he'll strike hard and fast at the world of Men. He will use his puppet Saruman to destroy Rohan. War is coming. Rohan must defend itself, and therein lies our first challenge, for Rohan is weak and ready to fall. The King's mind is enslaved; it's an old device of Saruman's. His hold over King Théoden is now very strong. Sauron and Saruman and tightening the noose. But for all their cunning we have one advantage. The Ring remains hidden. And that we should seek to destroy it has not yet entered their darkest dreams. And so the weapon of the enemy is moving towards Mordor in the hands of a Hobbit. Each day brings it closer to the fires of Mount Doom. We must trust now in Frodo. Everything depends upon speed and the secrecy of his quest. Do not regret your decision to leave him. Frodo must finish this task alone." Gandalf said as Aragorn and Zamira listened patiently.

"He's not alone. Sam went with him." Aragorn said and the Wizard seemed surprised.

"Did he? Did he, indeed? Good. Yes, very good." Gandalf said with a happy expression.

"Gandalf, before you said rumors, as in more than one. What was the other?" Aragorn asked with a curious look and Gandalf's eyes once again began to sparkle.

"Ah, yes. I do believe I did mention that. Word had also reached Sauron of our mysterious and powerful companion here." He said and gestured to Zamira, whose eyes widened.

"The greatest evil of this world has reason to fear me?" She asked in disbelief.

"Of course. You are an anomaly to this world. A powerful fighter who can do many wonders in the field of battle. Sauron fears your power, but at the same time covets it. When I floated in the in between place I heard many things. Given the chance I know Sauron would order your death but not before trying to woo you onto his side. He wants you Zamira Snowfang, not nearly as much as The Ring, but more than enough to make you a priority on his demented mind." Gandalf said and Zamira looked down at the ground for a moment before turning her back on the Wizard and Ranger. She walked over to the other side of the small campsite and after unbuckling her baldric and laying Mistrend gently on the ground she lean up against a boulder and tried to settle down to rest.

Before she could fade into the darkness of sleep and soft, warm hand on her cheek woke her up. She opened one of her eyes slightly and saw Legolas smiling into her face.

"Hello there." He whispered and she opened both her eyes and looked at him.

"Can I help you?" She asked as he sat down next to her.

"Not at all. I just felt like coming over here and spending some time with you." He replied and laid one of his hands on one of her own and pressed a quick peck to her cheek before she could stop him. She frowned and then met his gaze with a stern look.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to get some sleep. These past days have been tiring." She said and then closed her eyes again but didn't feel him leave or even move. Well he did move, but not in the way she had expected. He had taken her head and made it lay upon his shoulder, before placing his own head upon hers.

Zamira at first was thinking about waking up and telling the pushy Elf to move, but she wouldn't lie to herself and push him away any more that she already did. She sighed lightly and just accepted the Elf's closeness and relaxed into his body, using it as a pillow.

From across the campsite Aragorn and Gandalf saw the two and while Aragorn had a puzzled look on his face, Gandalf had a wide smile and a bright twinkling in his eyes.

"They…" Aragorn began but the elderly wizard cut him off.

"Leave it be, Aragorn. Fate will decide the destiny of those two, be it for good or bad. But I sense that their connection as it is now shall not be in vain." Gandalf said with a smile and then turned back to gazing at the fiery horizon and Aragorn went to get some of his own rest in the warmth of his bedroll.

**Holy shiznats! Two chapters in a row. And to believe I started this at 10:30 in morning and finished it at 11:37 the very same day! I am on a roll! Well I hope you all liked it. Reviews will make me happy… and I really wanted to get 50 before I started in on Part Two but oh well, I guess I just type too fast.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: I AM SOO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS CHAPTER TOOK TO GET OUT! But mainly it's because I was writing this chapter and then it began to get all messed up and then I went back and tried to fix it which ended up messing it up even more. So I took a week long break and tried to write down on paper how I wanted this chapter to go and it took me about five tries to come up with something decent in my mind since I'm super picky about plots and they have to be meticulously planned out before I even start writing. Like even when I wrote the first chapter to this story I had everything planned up to Chapter 10! **

**Anyways… a HUGE thanks to all of the people who reviewed. I mean really I had no idea that I was going to get so many reviews... which to my magical counting abilities I got reviews from 10 different people and some people (who were behind a chapter or two) reviewed more than once. XD But anyways... I enjoy your love in the form of words.**

**Dedications/Review Replies:**

**-Sharnorasian Empire: … THE GOLDEN HALL AWAITS YOU! And that's all I have to say.**

**-Daval Prestor: You are ridiculous. I think all that Old God ooze has gone to your brain. But I'm glad your twisted mind still enjoyed the chapter. Oh, wait; whoa I remembered something so umm yeah, how do those adamantium metal plates all over your body feel?**

**-CJNyfalt: (As per your response to chapter 13) Yes, I did think I handled Boromir's death rather well. (To your response to chapter 14) Yes, there will be no more mention of Frodo unless 'they' are thinking of him and nothing from his POV. Ah, yes, the Paths of the Dead. Yeah that is going to be an interesting journey for Zamira.**

**-Malozing: Thank you very much. I'm glad you are patient enough to wait upon my story, because I am pretty slow for updating but oh well. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**-Alexander153: Thank you. I'm a bit of a new writer and this is my first MAJOR Fanfiction and I am so pleased that it has turned out so well. Yeah, the pairing was difficult to create. At first I was debating about even adding such romance and just having a Death Knight arrive and pwn everything. But I felt that every story needs some sort of soft spot, a weakness per-say and that is where I added in the romance. Though honestly there will be no gooey mushy lovey-dovey crap. This is true love not drama! :P**

**-Sentinal of zeus: Well your wish is my command! And here your chapter to cure your case of suspense addiction.**

**-inightelf: Well firstly, I am glad you have joined the ever growing larger magical bus filled of awesome people who have read this fanfiction. Secondly, yes this is following the plot but it will continue after the plot of the three books for a little bit. By which I actually mean this story's sequel.**

**-Ravenvanguard: Yeah, Gandalf is back and ready to beat some Mordor and Isengard booty! Yup, yup I'm looking forward to Helmsdeep as well… though its gunna be a butt to write, but fun to read. But thanks for thinking that it was a good chapter.**

**-Maxim0: Thank you very much for your compliments. And yes most Death Knights are portrayed with the cold, emotionless behavior and Zamira was and kind of is still like that but its here in this story that I plan to have her realize that she's not really as dead as she think and or wants to believe she is. But once again thank you for the review and compliments and I hope you enjoy this chapter and all those to come.**

**-Anquietas: Thanks so much for the compliments! Yes it will be interesting to find out how the rest of Middle Earth will react to a Death Knight's presence. **

**Disclaimer & Claimer: World of Warcraft belongs to Blizzard Entertainment (WOOHOO CATACLYSM!), Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, Zamira and everything else belongs to me. Get it? Got it? Good! XD**

**Chapter 15 time! **

The sun rose and Zamira found herself still in the warm embrace of her elf. Her eyes widened slightly at her mind's unintentional wording of the phrase. This elf was not hers; such a possessive claim was ridiculous for her to say or even think. Sure there was… affection, maybe even a faint caring for the blonde elf. But there was not enough dedicated emotion from her side for her to fully call him her own.

Sighing lightly in a yielding manner at her own emotional confusion, she shook her head lightly to clear the sleepiness from her mind's depths. Then she lightly she elbowed the elf in the ribs to wake him from his own slumber. His eyelids flicked open quickly and squinted out at the rising sun whose rays were shining brightly and directly towards them from its easterly position.

"Get up! Up you two. You're lucky we've let you sleep this late." Gandalf said with a brief smile on his wizen face as they stood from the ground and Zamira picked up Mistrend from the ground and sheathed it on her back.

"Forgive me, I did not mean to sleep so deeply." Zamira apologized.

"I as well. Had I known…" Legolas too said but was cut off by a humorous chuckle from Aragorn who walked by leading the two horses by their reigns.

"Its fine, its fine. Now stop your talking. We still have much traveling to do and I hope to reach Edoras just after midday." Gandalf continued as he whistled softly and the pure white stallion he claimed was his friend through many struggles came trotting up and allowed the wizard to climb atop his back.

Legolas walked to Arod and mounted up in front of an already waiting Gimli who was disgruntled about once against having to hold onto the elf as they rode. Zamira rolled her shoulders and shifted her weight from leg to leg and was pleased to hear her stiff joints popping and cracking. She waved her hand out over the dried, grassy ground and then without hesitation mounted up on Oblivion and took the sturdy black leather reigns in her right hand.

"Come along." Gandalf said as his mount, Shadowfax took off at a leisurely canter which quickly turned into a fast gallop that ate up the leagues between them and the main city of Rohan.

Oblivion kept up well with the mortal horses and he never broke a sweat while Hasufel and Arod were already producing foam on their sides from the fast pace. By midday, when they stopped to rest the horses and eat some of the vast stores of food Zamira kept in her satchel, there was a glimmering hill far in the distance that shone like a polished brass shield in the sun.

"I would assume that the shining hill over there is Edoras?" Zamira asked Gandalf while the wizard himself was examining Oblivion with a curious eye, just as a scholarly mage of the Kirin Tor might have when faced with a new and intriguing magical artifact or an arcane tome discovered in ancient elvish ruins.

"Yes, that is it. The shining is particular is the decorations on the roof of the Golden Hall, more aptly named for such decorations than for anything of a more noble meaning." The white bearded wizard said in response as he ran his hand warily over the undead fire that coated the lower legs of her Deathcharger. His hand flinched back and the very tips of his fingers were a bluish black color already suffering from what most would call Frostbite. But they soon faded back into the pale but living fleshy color that the rest of the wizard was.

During the lunch as they sat on the flattest piece of ground they could find Legolas had immediately took a place next to her and sat uncomfortably close and even at one point rested his left hand on her unarmored right knee. She accepted the fact that the elf now wanted to be a bit touchy-feely with the knowledge that there was a romantic relationship between them, but she was still trying to become accustomed to such displays.

During the odd and rather short relationship between her and the Highlord there had been no soft touches just the rough, passionate grabs of sexual desire or violent urges to be soothed in any manner possible. Even during her servitude to Arthas there had been no such things, though there were gifts from her former master. Her Frostwyrm was one such gift, her Vampiric Runeblade was another. Though a Runeblade was a gift all accomplished Death Knights received once they finished their grueling training process.

They finished eating, disposed of the remains of their food, let the living horses drink from their water-skins and then set off towards the glimmering city in the distance. The remaining distance was covered within the time of an hour and half. Seemingly enough it was just enough time for the sun to move from its zenith in the sky to a slightly more westerly position.

They stopped momentarily on a rising knoll just before the city which was built on a cresting hill in the land with jagged rocky cliffs on one side and a rolling downward slope on the other. Ramshackle buildings were sprawled along the lower levels of the city with the buildings getting better as it progressed to a large cluster of nicely built building that were constructed at the very top of the hill.

"Edoras and the Golden Hall of the Meduseld. There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Théoden is now very strong. Be careful what you say. Do not look for welcome here." Gandalf said as he looked sadly upon the city, which according to his expression had seen better days and was in a bad state of things.

"Also, Zamira, you best pull your hood up. Your appearance and the fact that you are female will draw unwanted attention. To reveal your true self we must wait for more… appropriate times." He added meeting the cold, glowing blue gaze of the undead woman. She nodded and reached back around her head and pulled the grayish-green hood of her elvish cloak over her tied ink black hair so that her face fell into dark shadow hidden from sight. Even the unnatural blue glow and smoke of her eyes was muffled by the innate magic woven into the elvish cloth.

They set off again and rode up and down the rises and falls in the grassy plains every hoof beat bringing them closer and closer to the thick wooden front gates of Edoras. As they entered the wide open gates, a dark green flag bearing the white and gold horse of Rohan floated down on the wind and landed in the grasses.

Zamira kept her head down but snuck glances at the city and everywhere she saw women and children looking dirty and bedraggled and men armed and upon horses with grim faces. It was a sad sight, even the most war torn villages of Azeroth had not the gloomy aura of this beaten city.

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard." Gimli mumbled to himself and Zamira heard it since she was closely following Arod with Oblivion. She smirked under her hood and leaned down towards the dwarf's ears.

"Especially where I come from, since we have a holiday called Day of the Dead. There are parties with drinking and dancing in every major graveyard and cemetery in the whole world." She whispered back and then straightened herself in the saddle and caught Legolas' sky blue gaze as his keen elvish hearing had noted every word.

After they had climbed the steep road to the very top of the city they dismounted from their steeds and as the living horse were led off Zamira prepared to send away Oblivion before her wrist was caught in a firm slightly wizen hand.

"Do not do that." Gandalf whispered warningly as the city's guards were already glancing oddly at the glowing hooves of her mount. She nodded understandingly and then after whispering in her undead horse's ear not to eat any of the stable boys she let one of the young boys lead Oblivion away to the stables.

They turned and walked the rest of the way up to the main staircase that led to a pair of thick wooden doors reinforced with plates of metal which was the entrance to the Golden Hall. Just as they reached the top the doors swung open and three armored men came walking swiftly out and halted them in their place.

"I cannot allow you before Théoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame. By order of Gríma Wormtongue" The lead man said sternly, as his overly long auburn red hair moved slightly in the breeze. Though from the tone of the man's voice as he said from whom the orders originated from it seemed as though he did not like this Gríma person much.

Gandalf made a noise of understanding and nodded at Zamira and Legolas who stood to his right and them to Gimli and Aragorn who stood to his left. Begrudgingly they began to remove their weapons but Zamira confused as to what she would do with Mistrend, since none but her could touch it. Sighing she unbuckled her baldric and held the sword out by the thick leather straps but hesitated as one of the armed guards reached to take it.

"You may need another man to help you with this blade." She said simply as she tried to keep her voice from using a pronounced double timbre as usual. Her efforts turned out a raspy mess of a voice. But nonetheless she held the massive Runeblade out to the guard who looked at her in an incredulous manner but then glanced down and caught sight of a pronounced feminine chest and scoffed.

"Bah, a sword wielded by a woman cannot weigh much, even if it is of such a great size." He said in an offhanded manner as he grasped the leather strap with one hand and Zamira smirked knowingly from beneath her hood.

"Suit yourself." She said in the raspy tone that muffled the double timbre and then let go of the strap and watched in pleasure as the man collapsed quickly onto the stony ground and Mistrend landed heavily with a clang. She bent over and picked her Runeblade up once again and offered it to another guard who stood by watching his fellow in arms who was still on the ground nursing a sprained wrist. He waved over another and together they grabbed the leather straps of the baldric and lifted the blade with a great deal of effort. Just as one reached the touch the blade she grabbed his wrist and yanked it away.

"Touch nothing but the baldric unless you want to lose your mind in a very deep and dark pit of insanity." She growled deeply not even trying to mask her voice into the painful, raspy snarl she had managed before. They nodded with pale expressions and shuffled after the other guards with all their weaponry.

The leading man had been watching the whole display and seemed a bit shaken but then turned back to the remainder of the group and eyed Gandalf's staff.

"Your staff." He stated bluntly and Gandalf made a whining noise in the back of his throat while putting on a puppy dog expression if an old man could ever wear such a face.

"You would not part an old man from his walking stick?" The wizard asked faking sincerity and surprisingly the guard fell for it and turned away leading the five of them into the Golden Hall. Zamira caught out of the corner of her eye a wink and grin passing between Gandalf and Aragorn and she shook her head slightly knowing that boys will be boys even if they are old.

To keep up the façade of Gandalf's weakened state Legolas stepped up beside the wizard and let him lean upon his arm for support, which he truly did not need. The Golden Hall was not nearly so golden as it was dark, dreary and contained an overwhelming aura of corruption. At the far end of the hall there was a very old and sickly looking man sitting upon a throne with a slimy black haired man leaning over his shoulder whispering words that Zamira could not hear. On their left and right many servants and guards were minding their own business but seemed to find time to give glares or looks of hope towards the newcomers in their midst.

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King." Gandalf said loudly, his strong voice carrying through the Hall. The black haired man once again leaned and no doubt whispered words of poison into the sickly King's ears, hidden behind frizzing, brittle white hair.

"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" The wizen King asked in a grating voice as he looked to the black haired man as if asking if he had said the correct thing.

"A just question, my liege." The black haired man said nodding before rising from his crouched position over the King's shoulder to face the newcomers.

"Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear." He said as he stalked towards them, making eye contact with only Gandalf.

"LáthspellI name him. Ill news is an ill guest." He continued as he stopped but three feet before the wizard and sneered as if it was not the sickly man upon the throne but him who was the King.

"Be silent. Keep you forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm." Gandalf said threateningly as he held up his staff which seemed to greatly frighten the black haired, slimy man, who Zamira guessed was Gríma Wormtongue.

"His staff! I told you to take the wizard's staff!" He said as he backed away and guards rushed forward as if by some unspoken order to attack had been given. Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas immediately leapt in to detain the guards while Zamira decided to follow along with Gandalf to see what might happen.

But she did not get far when a guard tried to punch her from behind but she turned around quickly before he could even let loose his clenched fist. Her hood fell away with the momentum her spin had given it and she caught his gloved fist mid-flight and bent it backwards at the wrist and heard the cracking of bones and then the sharp grunt and muffled shriek of pain.

From there it seemed that most of the guards had given up on the Human, Elf and Dwarf but focused on bringing the mysterious woman who had so easily brought down one of their own men. Zamira quickly incapacitated them all leaving them with minor injuries such as broken wrists, ankles and a few lying unconscious on the stone floor.

She turned to find Gríma pinned to the floor by Gimli and Aragorn and Legolas standing nearly back to back watching the downed guards like hawks to strike when they so much as moved to try and stand again.

"Hearken to me!" Gandalf yelled at the sickly King who turned his head to the side but seemed to glare out of the corner of his eyes that were a milky white, blinded by cataracts of an unnatural cause.

"I release you from the spell." The wizard said as he extended a hand and there was a faint pulse of magic in the air before it was gone just as quickly as it had come. The sickly King began to laugh faintly at first before they were full blown guffaws.

"You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey." The King said, though Zamira knew that it was not really the elderly and sickly man who spoke, but his dark puppet master, the wizard called Saruman.

With a dramatic fling of his cloak, Gandalf pulled the gray cloth from his white robed form and revealed his true and new self robed in cloth of pure untainted white to the sickly King's eyes. As if a new powerful force had gripped the King he became ridged in his throne and his laughter had ended abruptly in a sharp gasp.

"I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound." Gandalf said sternly as his power flared and it was directed at the sickly King, possessed by Saruman, using his staff. Zamira couldn't help but bask in the arcane aura that Gandalf was giving off and it once again brought about a faint feeling of homesickness and longing for Azeroth to the nearly dead lump of heavy muscle in her chest which ached.

Out of nowhere a white clothed woman with golden blonde hair ran out but was grabbed by Aragorn who whispered for her to wait.

"If I go, Théoden dies." A deeper and darker voice said from the King's mouth only to be rammed back into the throne by the force of the magic emanating and being directed by Gandalf's staff.

"You did not kill me, you will not kill him." The wizard said simply as he began pushing his own magic into Théoden's body driving out Saruman's poisonous influence.

"Rohan is mine!" The possessed King said as he seemed to struggle against the magical forces around him, but it was all in vain as his head was slammed back against the wooden throne.

"Be gone." Gandalf ordered pushing his magic forward still. The sickly King lunged forward only to be pushed back once more and then his body fell limp and the dark oppressive presence of Saruman was gone.

Gandalf let out a deep and heavy breath as his job was done and the enslaved King of Rohan had been freed. The sickly King began to groan and fall forward but the young woman in the white dress rushed forward and caught him and helped him lean back into the throne. Just as she did so the features of the King began to change. The cataracts faded into pale blue eyes and the wrinkled diminished and his hair went to frazzled white to a healthy golden blondish-brown complete with a small beard and mustache.

"I know your face." The King whispered endearingly as he looked upon the young woman in front of him.

"Éowyn." He continued and then picked his head up to the look around with a confused expression.

"Gandalf?" He asked.

"Breathe the free air again, my friend." The wizard said as he backed away slowly and the King rose from his throne slowly and seemed to take a moment to gather his bearings.

"Dark have been my dreams of late." King Théoden said as he looked down at his hands and wiggled his fingers.

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better if they grasped your sword." Gandalf said with a wise look as the lead guardsman, who had confiscated their own weapons earlier, approached the throne dais and held out a sword in its scabbard to the King.

He seemed hesitant to take the proffered weapon but eventually he wrapped his hand around the grip and pulled it from its sheath, marveling at the shining silver blade before his expression grew furious and he turned to gaze upon the quivering slimy mess that had been Gríma Wormtongue.

In a flurry of motion two guards had grabbed the frightened man and hauled him towards the front doors which were flung wide open and he along with them to tumble down the stone steps while the angered King followed after him with slow measured steps but still in a bloodthirsty rage.

"I've only ever served you, my lord." Gríma protested loudly while dragging himself away on the ground from the approaching form of the King.

"Your leechcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!" The King roared furiously as a crowd of people began to form at the bottom of the stairs watching as their King bared down on the miserable excuse of a human being.

"Send me not from your sight!" Cried Gríma, as he tried to spare his life with a few well chosen words. But it was not to be had as the King swung his sword above his head and prepared to smite the slimy man where he lay. But mid-swing his arms were caught by Aragorn who had rushed from his place beside Gandalf to stop the killing.

In her mind Zamira was disappointed about being denied the chance to see fresh spilt blood since the last time she had actually fought was on the leaf covered hills where the Fellowship had broken apart and Boromir had been slain. But nonetheless she watched on as Aragorn persuaded the King to not kill Gríma But as Aragorn extended a hand to help the slimy man up all he received was a spitting on the hand as the black haired man stormed away and galloped off on a large black horse.

"Hail, Théoden King!" Yelled the lead guard and the townspeople knelt down onto their knees while the others bowed their heads in respect. Though Zamira did neither since she bore no allegiance to pay respects to this King, since he was not Varian Wrynn, nor was he the Highlord of the Ebon Blade. They were the other two she would bow to as a leader, though she would be courteous to other racial leaders.

The King of Rohan looked around, turning on his feet cumbersomely as if searching for something.

"Where is Théodred? Where is my son?" He asked rather loudly, though it was obvious that the question was to himself and not to any others.

It was then explained to the King in sad, quiet words from his niece the young blonde haired woman, Éowyn, that his son had been gravely injured in a battle against Orcs and had passed during the previous night. It was then that the King rushed off with his niece and guards on his heels to see for himself. Zamira and the others who were led by other guards to reclaim their weapons could faintly hear the roars of deep emotional pain originating from within the Golden Hall

The remainder of the day passed and soon the hasty preparations for the deceased son's funeral were done just as the sun began to rise into the new day's blue sky. Zamira walked with Legolas and Gimli in the funeral procession led by armed warriors who bore the young man down from the city and out into a grassy area outside the city where small white flowers grew everywhere.

As the soldiers began to lower the body into a stony tomb dug out in a small knoll, Éowyn began to sing in a rough but still melodious language that Zamira could not understand at all. After a few minutes of singing and then the stone slab was pulled shut and the tomb was sealed. Since the funeral was over everywhere wandered off to do whatever they wished.

Zamira had walked leisurely out into the plains, still not far from the flowered graveyard since it held an aura of the dead that felt almost like home to her. The sun had begun to truly set and the hill of Edoras blocked out the light plunging a great deal of the grasslands before the wooden gates into shadow.

Even Legolas had left her alone sensing that she needed what one would call 'alone time'. Then just as she had begun to sink into a stupor to relive her memories she caught sight of a dark horse walking over a hill. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gandalf looking at the newcomers as well. On the back of the large horse were two children, a boy and an even younger girl. Suddenly the boy swayed and fell sideways from the horse landing hard on the ground.

Without a second thought about the consequences of her hasty response Zamira swiped her hand over the ground besides her and summoned her Swift White Horse. Mounting the heavily armored still living white stallion she kicked it on its sides and galloped hastily over to the fallen boy and his still mounted sister.

She vaulted from her mount's back and dropped to her knees besides the boy and held her fingers up to his throat and checked for a pulse. There was one, still strong and healthy and with a gasp of air the boy sat up.

"Cold!" The boy said loudly and Zamira chuckled shaking her head at him.

"Come; let's get you both into the city." She said as softly as she could and picked the boy off the ground with one arm. She looked up to his sister who was watching with wide and innocent eyes.

"Do you think you can hold onto that horse's saddle for another few minutes and not fall off?" Zamira asked the girl who said not a word but nodded her head. With the boy in one of her arms she grabbed the reigns of the dark horse and tied them to the saddle of her Swift White Horse.

After making sure the knot was tight and secure she placed the young boy on the front of her own saddle and then mounted up behind him. After wrapping a strong arm around the boy's thin waist she turned her steed around with the dark horse following obediently behind it. At a brisk trot they reached the city gates where Gandalf waited with the King who watched with wide eyes.

"Are they alright?" Théoden asked as he studied the children in the undead woman's arms.

"They seem to be just hungry and tired, but no physical wounds that I could see." Zamira stated as she urged her horse into a trot once again and with the dark horse following they proceeded through the city up to the Golden Hall.

Once there she dismounted and then picked the boy into one of her arms again and with a wave of her hand dismissed the white stallion. She then walked over to the other horse's side and extended an arm for the girl. Without hesitation the small girl slid from the saddle and as she dropped Zamira caught her easily. With a child cradled in each arm she walked briskly up the Hall's steps and kicked the doors open where Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Éowyn sat eating some sort of hot stew.

All four looked up and their eyes widened at the sight of the Death Knight carrying two young children in her arms. Éowyn rose from her seat and hastened over to take the young girl from Zamira's arms.

"Get some more stew!" Éowyn ordered at a male servant that had been walking by and he dashed off to get the food. Following the blonde, young woman, Zamira set the young boy, who was wide awake but remaining silent, down on a wooden bench at a table.

As the food was brought for the starved children Gandalf and the King walked in and while the King sat down on his throne, Gandalf stood beside him like an advisor would.

Éowyn softly talked with the boy, who was the elder of the two and found out what had happened to them and their village. Zamira, while she wanted to stay near the children since they were her soft-spot walked over to an eating Aragorn and Gimli. She stood next to Legolas who was reclining on a large wooden beam and he shot her a questioning glance.

"I would not expect one such as you to care so much for children." He whispered into her ear and she lightly pushed him away with her right elbow.

"The soft-spot developed after a young Gnome girl from my world became very…attached to me. Ever since then I've liked participating in Children's Week." Zamira whispered back as she watched the young living human eat the food with gusto.

"What's Children's Week?" Legolas asked.

"It's when adventurers and other fighters of the world go to an orphanage and for the day have an orphaned child accompany them." She replied and then focused on Éowyn who had rose from her kneeling position next to the children.

"They had no warning. They were unarmed. Now the Wild Men are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go. Rick, cot and tree." She said, directing it towards the King, her uncle.

"Where is Mama?" The young girl asked as she was draped in a green blanket to ward off the chill of the Hall even though a large fire pit roared from the center.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will release. All the more potent for he is driven now by fear of Sauron." Gandalf said gravely as the King frowned and seemed to be thinking heavily in his mind.

"Ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children. You must fight." Gandalf said urgently, attempting to persuade the King.

"You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak. _**Éomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their King." Aragorn suggested.**_

_** "They will be three hundred leagues from here by now." Théoden said loudly as he rose from his throne and began pacing about the Hall.**_

_** "Éomer cannot help us." He stated solemnly but then as Gandalf walked down from the throne dais he spun on the wizard.**_

_** "I know what it is you want of me, but I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war." He said sternly to the wizard.**_

_** "Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not." Aragorn said wisely.**_

_** "When last I looked Théoden, not Aragorn, was King of Rohan." The King said as he spun on the ranger with an angered look. Zamira frowned and stepped forward.**_

_** "There is no need for such spiteful words. Aragorn is merely stating the truth of the matter. Whether you decide to fight or to run like a cowardly dog with your tail tucked between your legs. War will find you." She said, glaring at the King, who was actually about her own height so she could look him straight in the eyes.**_

_** "Such words from a mere woman, who has no place on the battlefield or experience with the dealings of war." Théoden said back and Zamira narrowed her eyes before Gandalf held up a hand telling her to restrain her response, be it physical or verbal.**_

_** "I would hold your tongue from making such accusations against her, Théoden King. Zamira Snowfang is not a woman to be trifled with on the field on battle. For she has seen and dealt more death than most of us in this room combined. The great blade upon her back is not for decoration purposes only." Gandalf said to the King who warily eyed the undead woman before him who glared back narrowing her glowing blue eyes.**_

_** "No matter, she is in my Hall, therefore she has no say." The King said and Zamira's left eyebrow twitched and the stopper that withheld the aura of her power fell away. The room chilled, all of the exposed liquids froze solid and everyone's breath became visible before their eyes in a white cloud of condensation.**_

_** "It would be wise of you to listen to my words, King." She hissed out menacingly as he shrunk back in fear and Gandalf eyed Zamira disapprovingly but made no move to stop her. In his mind Théoden needed to learn this lesson, and learn it well, and Zamira would be a good teacher to teach that very lesson.**_

_** "I have led battles, fought in wars and killed thousands in both my lifetimes and I will not hear such ignorant words from a man who should have the common sense of a leader to accept the wisdom his subjects or guest offer him. Do not doubt my powers, King of Rohan, or you may find yourself on the receiving end of them." The undead woman continued as she stalked towards the King until she came within two feet of him and glared into his own blue eyes.**_

_** "Are you threatening me?" He demanded as his fear of the vicious woman before him morphed into anger.**_

_** "No. I am promising you. Accept what we have said as the truth and make your decision wisely." The female Death Knight finished and then turned her back on the King and walked back to her original place next to Legolas.**_

"Then what is the King's decision?" Gandalf asked, breaking the deep silence that had permeated the Hall.

"We shall go to Helm's Deep." The King said simply and shot Zamira a hateful glare from the corner of his eyes. Gandalf nodded but his face fell since that was not the answer he had wanted from the King. With a waving hand gesture to the four who sat in the corner, the wizard briskly walked from the hall with Zamira, Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli hot on his heels.

"Helm's Deep. They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight. Who will defend them if not their King?" Gimli said angrily from the back as they moved across the Golden's Hall courtyard towards the large stables.

"He is only doing what he thinks is best for his people. Helm's Deep has saved them in the past." Aragorn said wisely as he walked alongside Gandalf.

"There is no way out of that ravine. Théoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he's leading them to safety. What they will get is massacre." The white robed wizard said as he entered the stall where Shadowfax was kept.

Zamira by this time had stopped walking along with Gimli and Legolas and waited outside of an empty stall. Suddenly out of nowhere a young stable boy ran up to her with a panicked expression.

"Milady! You are the one who owned the strange glowing horse, were you not?" The boy asked with a fearful expression.

"Yes. Why?" Zamira asked confused by the boy's fear.

"Well, I'm sorry to say, Milady. But your horse… it…it…it disappeared!" The boy cried and seemed to brace himself for some sort of blow, as if she would hit him. Zamira frowned and then remembered that by summoning her Swift White Horse she had dismissed Oblivion back to the Realm of Shadows.

"Do not worry, young one. My horse has not disappeared but merely returned to where he belongs. Go about your duties and forget about it." Zamira said waving the boy off who bowed at the waist before running off down the stable's main hallway. Suddenly out of nowhere Gandalf galloped past on Shadowfax and exited the stable in a flurry of flowing white robes and flashing black hooves.

From there the preparations for the evacuation of Edoras proceeded rapidly. Homes were emptied, horses were tacked, warriors were armored and their weapons sharpened.

Elsewhere in a dark tower of spiked black metal surrounded by burning forges and lands that had once been lush with verdant life a powerful wizard paced about in a round room. From around a corner a dark and slimy, black haired man walked slowly forward.

"Gandalf the White. Gandalf the Fool! Does he seek to humble me with his newfound piety?" The white robed wizard said in a deep and fluid voice.

"There were four who followed the Wizard. An Elf, a Dwarf, a Man and a Woman." The black haired man said as he walked forward towards his master, who sniffed and frowned in a disgusted manner.

"You stink of horse." The wizard said but then his eyes widened and his lips turned downward into a deeper set frown.

"The man… was he from Gondor?" The wizard asked.

"No, from the North. One of the _**Dúnedain **_Rangers, I thought he was. His cloth was poor. And yet he bore a strange ring. Two serpents with emerald eyes. One devouring, the other crowned with golden flowers." The black haired man said as he recalled every detail from his sharp memory.

"The Ring of Barahir. So Gandalf Greyhame thinks he has found Isildur's heir. The lost king of Gondor. He is a fool. The line was broken years ago. It matters not. The world of Men shall fall. It will begin at Edoras." The wizard said but then his eyes narrowed as he rose from a chair in front of a table littered with many books both old and new in many languages.

"But what of the woman?" He demanded as he spun on his slimy deceitful servant.

"What of her?" The servant said as he crouched away from the wizard who approached him with narrowed and angered eyes.

"What did she look like? Act like? Anything at all! Our great master, Sauron has spoken of a woman could turn the tide of our war for better or for worse!" The wizard yelled as the black haired man fell backwards to the floor in fear, his limbs shaking wildly.

"Her skin was pale as death and her hair the darkest of night's black. Around her was an aura of cold and death and her eyes… by the Gods her eyes were glowing spheres of bright icy blue. From them trailed tendrils of what I would like to call smoke but it was no fire in her eyes." The black haired man rambled on as he described the woman he had seen take out eight guards within seconds, with just her hands.

"That must be her! It has to be!" The wizard said with a crazed grin as he walked towards the center of the room where upon a columned pedestal sat his one way of communication with his great and powerful Lord.

The time had come and the evacuation of Edoras began truly as a long line of civilians guarded on both sides by armed soldiers flowed out from the hill-city and out onto the grassy plains. Near the front of the long winding line Zamira sat upon Oblivion and rode behind Legolas and Gimli while she dubbed herself the unofficial protector of the people who walked to her left.

The day passed uneventful though at some points the soldiers would dismount from their steed and take the weak elderly to ride on their horses while they would walk instead. Zamira ended up doing this as well as an elderly woman next to her collapsed to the ground and Zamira quickly dismounted and lifted the woman up onto Oblivion's broad back.

The evening came and Théoden called for a halt for the night and after making sure the old woman she had helped got back to her family Zamira lounged around on the ground. Out of the crowds of people the young blonde woman, named Éowyn appeared and walked over to the resting undead woman.

"Ah Lady Zamira, I have been searching for you." She said happily and stood before the Death Knight.

"Yes, what is it you want of me?" Zamira asked looking up at the living woman.

"I was wondering if you would help me and the able-bodied women distribute food to the people?" She asked and with a sigh Zamira nodded and rose from the ground to follow Éowyn. At a large wagon pulled by two massive draft horses she received a large basket of bread loafs which she was told to hand out one loaf per campfire, which she did, along with Éowyn who helped her hand out the bread.

"So I have heard from your dwarven companion that you come from another world?" she asked and Zamira nodded.

"It must be very free there, since you are a woman but you are allowed to wield a weapon and fight alongside men." Éowyn said in a wistful tone and the female Death Knight looked over at her and in a stern voice replied.

"It is only that way because my world is always at war. There is no peace. As soon as one evil has been beaten another arises." Zamira said as she handed out the last loaf of bread to a group of ten soldiers huddled around a campfire. After handing the basket to Éowyn, Zamira returned to where she had been originally and found Gimli, Aragorn and Legolas sitting around a small fire and eating their own food.

She sat down and ate a little of the food before she stood up once again and Aragorn raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'll be right back. I just need a walk." Zamira said simply as she strode briskly over the grassy landscape away from the large Rohan camp and into the dark wilds. Half an hour of walking found her far from the campsite with only a faint glow of orange on the horizon that gave away the many fires there.

Here and there a large shrub grew out of the land as if to defy the flatness of the plains. From one such bush a rustling noise was heard and out of it the blonde elf strode out with a sheepish smile.

"Why did you follow me? Have you taken to stalking me now?" Zamira asked as she watched Legolas like a hawk but she truly wasn't angry at him at all, if anything she was kind of glad he had followed her.

"No. But I followed you because I wanted to spend some time with you. With all the preparations for the evacuation and an entire day of riding we haven't been able to just be around one another." He said sincerely as he stopped in front of her and smiled warmly, his sky blue eyes sparkling in the faint light of the moon.

Such caring words that Legolas had just spoken seemed to ignite a spark inside the lump of flesh in her chest, which once could be called her heart. It was a bewildering and uncomfortable. Enough so that it set her off balance a bit as she stumbled to the right only to have Legolas steady her.

"Are you alright?" He asked worriedly.

"I do not know. Your words seem to ignite a warm feeling in my chest; it is odd and disconcerting because I am so cold." Zamira said bluntly as she steadied herself once again and removed Legolas' hand from her upper arm.

"I think that it might be your soul and heart's response to… love." Legolas whispered hopefully as he took a step forward and cupped the ice cold cheek of the undead woman before him.

"Nonsense. That is not possible." Zamira said as she tried to move away from the elf's warm hands but he did not let her move.

"Zamira, you really need to stop lying to yourself all the time. I know you may not understand what is going on but I do. What you are feeling is love, for me. I know it!" He said grasping both her cheeks with his two hands and looking in her wide glowing blue eyes.

"How can you be so sure when you claim that you love someone?" Zamira asked him narrowing her eyes and wrenching his hands off her cheeks.

"Because you feel it… right here." Legolas said placing his palm in his chest, where his heart was. Zamira narrowed her eyes and then nodded slowly.

"Then I guess… you must be right." She said slowly and quietly, as if it was not directed at Legolas but at herself, an admission that what the blonde elf before her had said was the truth of the matter. She looked up when she felt a warm hand on her cheek once again and met the sparkling sky blue eyes of said elf.

"See, was that so hard?" He asked with a small smile and then he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Why did you walk all the way out here again?" He inquired and Zamira searched through her mind for the answer.

"Oh, yes I came out here because I wanted to fly. Get a respite from the ground for a little while." She said and Legolas frowned.

"Fly? How? You do not have wings." The elf said and the undead woman felt her lips twitch into a small smile and she chuckled softly.

"Forgotten my flying mounts have you?" She asked playfully as she swept a hand out over the ground and a large cloud of white smoke appeared and the clattering of heavy bones could be heard from within it.

"Summoned again, Master? I do hope it is not another social visit." Her Frostwyrm said as he the smoke around his skeletal body faded away and his blue undead glow illuminated the area around them.

"Not at all, Glacios. We are actually going to fly this time." Zamira said as she walked up the large bone skull of the risen Blue Drake.

"Excellent! Ah, I see that you have one of the living beings with you again." Glacios commented as he turned his massive skull to focus upon Legolas who was warily eyeing the undead dragon.

"Yes. Glacios, this is Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood." Zamira said gesturing to the blonde elf who nodded his head at the Frostwyrm before him.

"Greetings, Prince Legolas. If you remember I am Glacios, Grandson of the Spellweaver, the Aspect of Magic and leader of the Blue Dragonflight, Malygos." The undead drake said as he bent his head at the elf and then turned his glowing blue gaze to his master who had watched the elf and dragon talk to one another.

"Shall we fly now, my master?" Glacios asked and Zamira nodded before turning her own blue gaze towards Legolas with a raised, thin black eyebrow.

"Legolas, would you like to accompany us? There is room for two on the saddle." She asks him before walking up to him and taking one of his hands in hers and after wincing slightly at the heat she dragged him over to the black leather saddle that was bound magically in place to the skeleton of Glacios.

"I don't know. I'm not exactly a flying sort of person." Legolas tried to protest but Zamira grinned widely flashing her pearly white teeth and without listening to another word from the elf she lifted his light body up into the air and literally threw him onto the saddle.

"Too bad, it seems you're coming with us." Glacios said deeply in his own double timbre voice as Zamira climbed up his front leg and heaved herself into the saddle. She placed herself in front of Legolas who had already righted himself in the saddle and lightly took a hold on the black leather reigns resting before her but held them slack in her gloved hands.

Glacios sensing that his riders were secure began a loping run across the grassy plains and spread his wings wide allowing the tattered remains of flesh to catch the wind. With a strong flap they were airborne and rising steadily up into the sky with the warm night air whistling through the undead drake's bones. Legolas surprised by the sudden lack of ground beneath them leaned forward in the saddle and wrapped his arms around Zamira's waist and held on for dear life.

They ascended hundreds of feet into the air where the temperature dropped to be chillier than before and Zamira glanced over her shoulder to find Legolas wide eyed and surveying the fast moving land beneath them. She turned back and saw that Glacios was making a banking turn and they were soon soaring over the Rohan campsite where any who looked up saw a blur of glowing blue shooting across the night sky and wished upon it like a star. The undead drake and his riders continued on and flew further away.

Glacios enjoying the freedom he had been given on this flight began to make sharp spiraling turn, steep dives only to swoop back up in a near vertical climb. He also rolled in the sky which made Legolas and Zamira tighten their legs onto the saddle and hope to not fall off, which they did not. Finished with his fun, the undead drake leveled out and began to leisurely soar on the warm thermals.

Legolas taking the given opportunity leaned forward once more and pressed his muscled chest into Zamira's back and laying his chin upon her shoulder and pressing a light peck to her cheek. The female Death Knight looked back and saw how close his face was to her and saw the happy smile on his lips before she turned back to look at the world moving underneath them.

They flew on and on before Zamira ordered Glacios to turn back and head the way they had come. And to land on a flat place on the plains, a fair distance from the large camp and out of sight from any wandering humans or night sentries. Glacios swooped down and landed with a slightly jarring thud as his legs bent to absorb the shock and his long bony talons gouged up the soft earth.

Legolas unwound his arms from the female Death Knight's waist and leapt to the ground landing lightly and as gracefully as a cat. While Zamira slid from the saddle and landed with a heavy booted thump on the ground. Her legs began to buckle beneath her but she shook off the momentary weakness and turned to Glacios.

"Thank you for bearing us in the air, Glacios." She said to the Frostwyrm who bowed his head in respect.

"It is always an honor to bear you anywhere in the sky, my master." Glacios said and with that Zamira waved her hand towards the skeletal dragon which vanished in a cloud of smoke, identical to the one he had appeared with.

Once again her legs began to buckle and she growled at herself under her breath and began clumsily walking forward towards the camp.

"This world has made me weak." She growled to herself but then stopped when Legolas placed a warm hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him.

"Nonsense, you are by far the strongest and most powerful warrior I have ever known. And I have seen many powerful people in my long life." Legolas said warmly and Zamira frowned at the elf but on the inside she was quite flattered. Then a curious thought struck her and she looked up at the elf that was only three or four inches taller than her six foot height.

"How old are you exactly?" She asked curiously and Legolas made an impish grin at her.

"Far older than you. When last I counted this would be my two thousand, seven hundred and seventy fifth year alive. Now to return the favor, how old are you?" Legolas asked and Zamira's eyes widened at the young looking elf before her who was many, many times older than her but still acted as if he were a stripling child in his twentieth summers.

"At the time of my death I was supposedly twenty eight winters old and I have been a Death Knight for another eight. So that would make me in my thirty sixth year." Zamira said, remembering the time she had been in a graveyard near Stormwind City and found her own gravestone marking the date of her 'death'.

"So young, yet so wise." Legolas said softly and he ran his fingertips down her pale cheeks and then smiled impishly.

"Come on then. We best get back to camp before Aragorn thinks we got lost or worse." He said as they began walking back towards the orange glow in the sky that marked the placement of Rohan's large camp.

As they walked into the camp none so much as spared the returning woman and blonde elf much of a glance except for Aragorn and Gimli who still sat at their small campfire. Aragorn grinned knowingly and Gimli sent a wink at Zamira who narrowed her eyes and glared at the red bearded Dwarf. Zamira separated from the side of the blonde elf and sat down to recline upon a small boulder that was halfway buried in the ground a few feet away from the fire. As she had expected Legolas accompanied her and sat down as well and leaned on her left side as he had two nights previous.

They sat there for many minutes just staring into the fire, listening to the hum of talking in the camp until slowly silence began to fall as they inhabitants of Edoras either fell asleep or took their watch in guarding the campsite. Zamira sighed and decided to make use of her elvish pillow and used the convenient shoulder as a pillow and closed her glowing blue eyes and attempted to fall asleep. This, after a few minutes of counting ghouls in her mind, eventually worked and the undead woman fell into a slumber.

**Holy shiz-monkeys! If anything I think this is my longest chapter yet. Well anyways here is Chapter 15 and I hope all you who read this enjoy it. R&R peeps! **

**Also as a surprise to one of my most frequent and devoted reviewers Sharnorasian Empire, hereby from this chapter onwards (not really this chapter more so on the onwards) thou have been dubbed this stories…..BETA! *cheers, applause, etc.* **

**Next to Come: Battle at Helm's Deep! *le gasp***


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: Heyo peoples! Only two things to say before we get to review replies and the many dedications to the people who read this fanfiction. Firstly, this chapter is actually only half of the original Chapter 16, which will now be Chapter 17. So this is truly Chapter 16 Part 1. And secondly, a big round of applause for my newly appointed Beta, Sharnorasian Empire. Who for her first chapter on the job has done a phenomenal job at helping me to make this chapter better than before! CHEER PEOPLE, CHEER! I DEMAND CHEERING! But anyways onto the other things I need to say before you read the chapter.**

**Dedications/Review Replies:**

**-Sharnorasian Empire: Caves? Psh, what bloody caves? Not gunna happen… If anything there shall be a few bloody corpses and a very unconscious Death Knight before she gets in those caves. Which still isn't going to happen. XD**

**-MeWanteeNoodles: Update maybe soon… since as I write this I have no idea when this chapter is to be posted. But thank you for all the yays they make me smile.**

**-Daval Prestor: I think my eardrums just shattered, reformed and then shattered again. Did I really just hear the Aspect of Death give me a squee? Anyways… for some reason while writing this I saw your new human form in a pink tutu, twirling around like a little girl with a few sprinkles of glitter raining from the sky. LOL! :P**

**-Zhar of Shadows: Thank you for the compliment, I appreciate it.**

**-Ch10: Finally another person who gives criticism, I thank thee very much. Anyways your deserved answer to your first problem is that the forced-ness of it is because Zamira does not share her inner thoughts and feelings with anyone and this whole sharing and social-ness is completely new to her. Secondly, worry not the plot will soon deviate in its own way and Zamira will trek off on her own. Not to mention the whole fact of the non-movie written and referenced sequel which comes straight from my brain.**

**-Ravenvanguard: Thank you for your compliments and what are Sauron and Saruman cooking up? Hmm I'm thinking it's a Chicken Pot Pie, but it's not really chicken… it's mystery meat and the gravy its not really condensed powders flavored with some sort of bird stock… its more like liquefied Warg paws with little bitty pieces of Rohan ponies in them. Nasty right? But then again it's a mentally deranged Wizard and a Maiar gone Dark Lord of Evilness we're talking about so what did you expect? But really as for their plans you're just going to have to wait like everyone else. But it will be big, it will be noisy, it will probably give you nightmares… just sayin'.**

**-Sentinal of zeus: Thank you for the epic-ness award for 5 out of 5 in points, but I was not informed I was being rated. XD Jk. Anyways yeah I hope that this chapter right here, the one that starts in a few lines appeases your fanfiction appetite.**

**-Rhavis: Welcome to the Review/Reader Train of Awesomeness! But yeah you're lengthy review was wonderful to read and I am very glad that you enjoy my writing so much. Yeah, I too have noticed that the quality of my work has been improving and eventually I will go back and edit the chapters that I feel could use the upgrade. As for calling Zamira Zam I have no problems with it (she might though), but when I am hand writing out the plot for the chapters I often abbreviate everyone's names. Zamira is Zam, Legolas is Lego, Gimli is Gim, Aragorn is Ara… etc. etc. As for Rose… her character as well as her husband won't play much part in the first part of this fanfiction, though their characters will play a definite major role in the sequel where most things are going to take place in Azeroth. But no more information on the sequel for you! I am glad that you like my writing style, which as I know took quite some time to develop since my writing used to be CRAP! But it has evolved a lot and I am very pleased with it and actually in my future I hope to become a part-time author. XD Big dreams, 'eh? Anyways… Thanks for reviewing!**

**-Anquietas: Well who can wait for a battle scene and the latest update of a good fanfiction? I mean I know I can't. Haha, but yeah, here's your battles and update all in one. XD**

**Disclaimer: Blizzard Entertainment owns WoW, I do not. Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, not to me.**

**Claimer: On the other hand, Zamira Snowfang, any OCs (unless specified as not belonging to me) belong to me.**

**Chapter 16 (Part 1) is a go!**

The sun rose and the troop from Edoras undergoing this exodus was already rousing from their make-shift beds, dousing the smoldering campfires and eating what little food they could. Zamira once again had been recruited by Éowyn to help pass out the meager rations to the soldiers and civilians. As the two women, vastly different in many ways walked side by side the honey blonde shield-maiden kept glancing up at her frozen companion. Zamira had noticed the curious and innocent glances of the young woman on her person but had sought to ignore them and hope that they would cease, but they did not.

"Can I help you, Shield-Maiden?" The female Death Knight asked as she glanced out of the corner of her completely glowing, cobalt blue eyes towards the young woman.

"Oh! I was… just… uhhh… looking at… you." Éowyn stuttered out meeting the glowing and cold glance with her own eyes before turning away and shivering slightly at the chilliness of the look itself.

"May I inquire as to why?" Zamira questioned.

"The elf, Prince Legolas, he looked at you very much like my mother used to look at my father before both of their deaths. I was just curious as to what he saw when he looks at you. Not to say that you aren't attractive looking, but you give off such an unapproachable aura." She said hesitantly while the Death Knight arched a thin, black eyebrow and let out of a puff of unnecessary air as she felt bothered by the young woman's conversational habits.

"Yes, I am aware of such an aura and that is how most Death Knights are. It is who we were made to be. I cannot speak on behalf of Legolas since I, myself, cannot understand why he seeks romance with me rather than a spry young elf girl from his own kingdom. But he does. Just as a subordinate and then comrade of mine did with his own beloved one." Zamira said sharply and the woman of Rohan nodded in understanding.

"Then one of your 'kind' managed to find love with a living person?" The blonde woman asked curiously and the Death Knight simply nodded.

"So…Back in your world do you have any living relatives?" Éowyn asked curiously with a happier disposition. Zamira's lips fell into a frown from their neutral position of a straight lipped expression and her eyelids drooped slightly over her glowing eyes.

"Yes, I do. A younger sister. She found me only a week before I was sent here. But it does not matter, she detests me greatly." The undead woman said gravely before looking at the rising sun with a thoughtful expression.

"Surely she cannot hate you? Sisters are meant to be the closest of friends despite their hardships and arguments together. I've never had a sister, just a brother, who I've heard you met! Éomer is my older brother." The blonde woman said with a bright and happy smile.

"Ah… Yes… The golden-red haired brute. I'm afraid he does not like me much either." Zamira said withholding a chuckle of her sole memory of the frightened man of Rohan.

"How can that be? I only heard of your meeting from the Lord Aragorn who simply said that your group had met him along your way to Edoras. Nothing from such a meeting could have caused any ill feelings to have been made… Could it?" Éowyn asked curiously with a confused frown marring her otherwise innocent appearance.

"I'm afraid so. His group of mounted men threatened our group at first, mistaking us for this Saruman's spies. I then took action and froze their spear tips in rounded blocks of ice. Your brother, I'm afraid, thinks I dabble in the arts of sorcery and therefore he does not like me. Not that his opinion matters to me at all." The Death Knight said as she noticed an approaching aura of great familiarity and glanced over her shoulder to see Legolas striding lightly but briskly in her direction.

As he looked up from the ground where he had been watching carefully so as to not step on any of the packing civilian he met her frozen blue gaze and smiled cheerfully; his pearly white teeth glimmering in the rising sun's light.

"We must mount up, Zamira. The King has ordered us to line up once again since we are about to move out." The blonde elf said, after giving a short but respectful nod to the nearby Éowyn, who just nodded in return and walked smoothly away into the moving crowds of people with the empty bread basket in her arms.

"I think that's the most I've ever seen you speak with someone else, besides myself and maybe Gandalf." Legolas said with a soft smile and Zamira frowned slightly.

"As I said last evening, this world is making me weak. My mental, emotional and even physical strength and sturdiness is fading away. By the time I am ever able to return to Azeroth it'll be like I'm an inexperienced novice all over again." She mumbled unhappily and then turned on her heels with Legolas in tow and rejoined the waiting King of Rohan, his guards, Aragorn and Gimli.

A few minutes passed and then it seemed to them that the majority of the fleeing people of Rohan were ready to leave the campsite and so the soldiers who guarded them mounted upon their steeds and prepared to depart. Swinging her hand out in a casual manner Zamira summoned Oblivion and mounted the Acherus Deathcharger after giving him a light caring pat on the neck.

The procession began moving at the slow crawling pace, much like it had been but still they progressed at a steady pace, eating up the dry grassy ground under their feet, or for the horses, their hooves.

Around midday Legolas dashed off on his own, after eating a quick bite of the remaining lembas bread they received in Lorien to go and scout the areas ahead. So when the group began moving again Gimli was left alone astride a brown horse, though Éowyn led the horse onwards because the dwarf had absolutely no clue how to ride the large animal.

From their positions in the front Zamira turned to Aragorn that who was examining the plains around them with the sharp eyes that he no doubt had acquired throughout his rough life. She cleared her throat lightly and he glanced at her from the corner of his eyes.

"Aragorn, I will ride farther back along the line now. I do believe that the King is becoming irritated by my presence." She said quietly as she glanced at the King who for the past few minutes had been glancing back at her with narrowed eyes and a scrutinizing gaze. The Ranger nodded in understanding and agreement.

"That sounds like a particularly good idea. We're not really needed up at the front. I believe I shall accompany you." He replied and they turned their steeds around and trotted back. There they stopped to walk on either side of the line just behind the area where Gimli was being led on by the blonde woman of Rohan, Éowyn.

"It's true; you don't see many Dwarf women. And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance that they're often mistaken for Dwarf men." Gimli was saying to Éowyn with hearty chuckle. She then glanced back with a humorous glint in her eyes to meet those of Aragorn and Zamira, but more towards Aragorn that anyone else.

"It's the beards." The Ranger whispered conspiratorially back at the maiden of Rohan, making gestures under his chin to fake an invisible beard.

"This in turn, has given rise to the belief that there are no Dwarf women and that Dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground." The red bearded dwarf went on to say without knowing of the antics going on behind him. Éowyn laughed openly at this and gasped for air, while Zamira thought to herself in her mind that such statements weren't particularly false in Azeroth. Since the Earthen were made of literal earth. For example the Sandstone

Earthen of Uldum in Tanaris were literally made of sandstone.

"Which is, of course, ridiculous." He continued on. But then the brown horse beneath him whinnied and began to canter forward, its reigns slipping from Éowyn's fingers. But not for long did the Dwarf stay atop the run-away horse as he lost his balance and slipped to the right side and landed heavily on the ground.

Éowyn was laughing openly, though she gasped in slight worry when the red bearded Dwarf hit the ground. Aragorn was smirking in amusement, while Zamira felt her lips twitch once more and she let out a heavy breath of unnecessary air that came out patched and sporadic as laughter tried to escape her.

"It's alright. Nobody panic. That was deliberate. It was deliberate." Gimli protested as the blonde woman of Rohan helped him rise from the ground where he had been wiggling in the grass like a turtle stuck on its shell.

From behind them King Théoden rode up between the Death Knight and Range with a soft smile on his aging face.

"I haven't seen my niece smile for a long time. She was a girl when they brought her father back dead. Cut down by Orcs. She watched her mother succumb to grief. Then she was left alone, to tend her King in growing fear. Doomed to wait upon an old man who should have loved her as a father." He said gravely as he watched Éowyn as she conversed with the fallen Dwarf.

Then she looked back and met their eyes and when her eyes landed upon Aragorn they filled with something Zamira could not quite place. Was it hope? Love? Some other positive emotion besides the obvious content happiness already displayed in her personal aura? Either way if such feelings of affection were aimed towards the Ranger, Zamira knew they would only end in heartbreak since his own heart was already taken by a dark haired elven maiden of Rivendell.

The day passed much like the first and soon it was time to break for camp. Legolas ran back into the camp a few short moments after they had came to a halt and reported the findings of his scouting mission to the King before Aragorn spotted him from the small campsite he had set up with Gimli and Zamira. The Ranger raised his hand and the elf immediately spotted them and came walking over.

"How did your scouting go?" Aragorn asked.

"As quiet and uninteresting, as I wish all other scouting missions were." The blonde elf said as he sat down next to the undead woman and shot her a soft look and leaned onto her unarmored shoulder while resting a pale pink hand on her knee.

"I missed you." He whispered into her ear and Zamira turned her head slightly to look into his blue eyes.

"I too found your lack of presence…odd. You missed many humorous happenings in your absence. Our Dwarf friend fell from his horse." She said back, admitting not just to him, but to herself, that the day without the elf's company had been lacking.

"Really? I am saddened now by knowing that I missed such merriment." He said with his voice quiet but genuinely sad sounding but it faded soon after and the young looking elf broke into chuckles. Gimli, who up until then had been minding his own business devouring down a hearty slice of bread, glanced up with narrowed eyes and with a huff stood up and tromped away.

Zamira watched his small, retreating form as he was approached by Éowyn who offered him some sort of a steaming soup or something but he declined it after taking a discreet sniff. Legolas wrinkled his nose and hastily stood up and dragged the surprised Death Knight, who hastily grabbed the baldric complete with her Runeblade before it was out of her reach, with him abandoning the Ranger to the Rohan woman's attentions.

"What was that for?" She asked quietly with her double-timbre voice, as they sat down once again about twenty feet away.

"The soup smells awful and I just decided to bring you with me." Legolas whispered back as they watched in an almost conspiratorial manner as Éowyn offered Aragorn some soup with a sweet smile.

"Ah… Have you noticed the Shield-Maiden's behavior around Aragorn?" Zamira asked curiously to the elf who was now examining the young woman's behavior with a critical eye.

"Well I'm surprised that you've noticed. I thought you weren't really capable of detecting such things as issues of the heart. But yes, Éowyn bears romantic feelings for Aragorn. Not that he will or is able to respond to such feelings because of his true love for the Evenstar." He said simply.

Zamira nodded in understanding as she watched Aragorn suffer through attempting to get rid of the disgusting soup inconspicuously without the young woman seeing him and becoming offended.

Giving up on watching the awkward situation Zamira unsheathed Mistrend from the black sturdy leather baldric and from the enchanted satchel at her waist she withdrew a whet stone. Then she began grinding away at the still quite sharp edge of Mistrend just to waste away time with the calming motions of running the treated stone down the blade. The sun finally finished its decent beyond the distant hills and Legolas drifted off to the half-sleeping state elves fell into when they desired rest while he leaned upon her shoulder.

Zamira did not sleep that night and for a great deal of time was sharpening Mistrend needlessly but then just sat content watching the black night sky with the nearly full moon and twinkling silver stars sparkling above. The blonde elf cuddled up on her right side, surprisingly his body heat changing her own giving her a literal warm feeling and his body giving off a forest-like scent reminding the undead woman of the Eastern Kingdoms, mainly the beautifully forested areas of Hillsbrad Foothills.

Off to the side she noticed that Aragorn was still awake too and deeply entwined in his own thoughts. But he began to drift off to sleep as well and soon it was just Zamira and the soldiers assigned to keep guard during the night hours.

The sun rose and the people of Rohan were on the move again and the day passed rapidly and before they were truly aware of it midday had arrived and then left again. Legolas had been uneasy that morning sensing some sort of impending danger so Zamira took the time to armor herself.

Her thick Titansteel plate armor now shone grimly and eerily in the sunlight but she was prepared for the worst to happen. She also decided to walk near the front this time just in case the doom was to strike but not to summon Oblivion since she was sick of riding in the saddle.

Zamira watched as Legolas once again ran away on foot to scout and shortly after two soldiers of Rohan, one the King's right hand man trotted forward to scout on their own.

Suddenly the screams of both men and horses came from over the rise where the two scouts had ridden and Zamira saw Legolas dash from his high point upon a rise towards the source of the noise. Zamira dashed forward and roughly yanked a heavy pike from a mounted soldier's grasp and ran forward along with Aragorn.

As the two crested the rise they saw the blonde elf killing a hideous creature. Very much like the Goblins of Moria and the lesser Orcs, not the Uruk-hai, she had already seen. Beneath the creature was a great disfigured wolf-like creature, but was far too large to be a normal wolf, more like the Worgs of Azeroth with a mutated disease.

"A scout!" Legolas shouted as one of his silvery-white bladed knives slit the creature's throat. Aragorn's eyes widened in shock as he turned around and sprinted back to the mass of people soon to be coming over that very rise. As the Ranger went to warn the people of the attack Zamira swept a hand out and summoned another of her mounts, one that could fight evenly against these vicious wolf-beasts, her Swift Mistsaber.

Its pale grey fur rippled under the heavy armor plating of silver metal and azure blue crystals. It roared and nuzzled up against her side before she swung into the low riding saddle that was still a good three and a half feet off the ground and took up the reigns in one of her hands while holding the spear in her other.

She nudged the Saber into a loping run over the cresting hill where Legolas stood with his bow and was opening fire upon the incoming wolf-beast riding Orcs. Dashing past the elf, together the massive cat and its rider leapt over the short rocky cliff and onto the grassy, mostly flat area where the enemies were pouring in.

Hefting the spear into the appropriate position she hurled it with all her might at the first wolf-beast she saw and smirked as it plunged through its skull. A few others of the attacking wolf riders dropped to the ground as the blonde elf's well aimed arrows smote them upon the grassy plains.

Glancing behind her briefly she saw the mounted soldiers of Rohan with Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas come galloping into the fray as well. But her attention was then brought back to the fight as a wolf-beast and her cat leapt ferociously at one another. Her Saber's long front fangs pierced the scruffy fur-covered flesh of the wolf's throat and blood gushed outwards.

Zamira leapt from the saddle towards the rider of the wolf and wrapped one of her armored arms around its neck and twisted harshly snapping its spine like a twig. She rolled onto the ground and drew Mistrend and charged with her Saber beside her towards the next wolf-beast and rider.

Blood bathed her armor and exposed face as she decapitated a wolf-beast, her blade even slicing through the heavy spiked collar around its neck. As she did this, her Saber leapt upon its back and shredded the rider to ribbons of discolored flesh and oozing black blood. She watched momentarily as the unholy energy that had coated the edge of her blade ate the flesh of the wolf-beast, until nothing with left except for a bare skeleton

Licking her lips Zamira cackled softly in the pleasure of the fight and sprinted to her neck victim where she impaled the rider with Mistrend and absorbed the black blood into her Runeblade and used it regain some of her energy and strength. At the same time her Saber engaged in a brutal, animalistic battle to the death with the wolf-beast.

Seeing a wolf-beast and rider that were fleeing from the scene of the battle she hurried over to a discarded spear that was still buried deeply within the flesh of a wolf-beast and yanked it free. She then spun on her heels and sent the spear rocketing through the air with a whistle to pin the rider to his wolf-beast and sever the spine of the beast.

Suddenly out of the corner of her eye she saw Aragorn being dragged along by a rider and his wolf mount. Knowing that the Ranger was in danger she sheathed Mistrend into the partial scabbard attached to her baldric and ran full pelt towards the loping wolf-beast. She sprinted as fast as she could and luckily managed to leap and then climb upon its back and throw its rider off. But not after the rider received Aragorn's curved knife to the neck and began to choke on its own blood.

Her gloved fingers fumbled with the tangled leather straps that were holding him to the wolf-beast, but it was in vain. As the wolf-beast, that had been trying to bite and snap at its two unwanted passengers, didn't watch where it was running and slipped on the rocky edge of a very, very long drop into a rushing, brown colored river.

Wind rushed past their faces as Zamira gave up on untangling the strap and merely ripped them away from the harness and grabbing the Ranger to her and putting her heavily armored body between him and the waiting river below.

The impact with the rushing water forced the air from her lungs and she felt her un-helmeted head crack sharply against a rock before darkness engulfed her, even as she still clung to the unconscious human man in her arms.

From the top of the cliff the short fight against the riders and their wolf-beasts was drawing to a halt as the horse mounted soldiers chased away the survivors and the injured enemies were put out of their misery.

"Aragorn! Zamira!" Legolas called worriedly as he did not see his best friend or his love.

"Aragorn? Death Knight?" Gimli asked the air as if the two were hiding away somewhere, or buried under bodies they had been stuck under.

The blonde elf snooped around for a while and followed heavier than usual tracks that led towards the open air off the cliffside. To his left a dying Orc laughed happily in his bleeding state on the rocky ground.

"Tell me what happened and I will ease your passing." Gimli demanded gruffly as he brandished his Orc blood stained axe in front of the Orc's face.

"They're… dead." It wheezed out, coughing between the words as it continued to choke on its black, oozing blood.

"They took a little tumble off the cliff." It continued to say happily and with pride as Legolas' features darkened in anger and grief.

"You lie." But even as his accusatory words left his fair mouth the Orc choked a little more and then breathed its last. The elf noticed something sparkling in the Orc's hands and pried from its dead fingers the Evenstar Pendant that Arwen Undomiel had given Aragorn as a sign of her undying love for him.

Then there was a keening mewling noise and Legolas and Gimli looked to the cliff edge where a massive cat prowled around, sniffing and then glancing with glowing white-lilac colored eyes. It let out the keening mewling noise again and kept looking down the cliffside and then sniffing at the air and ground.

Legolas wandered hesitantly over to the cat which turned its great head towards him and took a cautionary sniff at his scent before purring deeply and prancing over. It rubbed against him and then glanced back at the cliffside again before looking up at Legolas as if he could answer its question.

"I do not know where she is." He whispered to the great cat that seemed to the sag under the knowledge but still remained at the elf's side.

Then from behind them King Théoden walked up and looked over the cliffside as well with a mourning expression. Below the brownish river flowed onward still with no sign of the Warg, Aragorn or Zamira anywhere to be found. Legolas closed his eyes momentarily and laid his left hand upon the cat's armored head and inhaled a deep breath of air before letting it out in shaky puffs as he resisted the urge to cry. Behind them one of the soldiers of Rohan ran up to Théoden and awaited orders.

"Get the wounded on horses. The wolves of Isengard will return. Leave the dead." The King said bluntly and the blonde turned his head to look at the King in shock of such brutish lack of respect for the dead. Laying a hand on the elf's shoulders the King gazed at him sympathetically.

"Come." He said simply but backed away when the great, grey furred cat at the elf's side hissed at him arching its back and baring its black claws and long fangs. Legolas sighed as he watched to the King walk away for a moment and then gazed back at the flowing river, then at the cat and finally a near-tears red bearded Dwarf.

"Come along." He said softly and then led the two back to the convening group of surviving soldiers and horses.

Meanwhile, farther down the river, beyond most fields of vision, upon a rocky shore of the once rushing river two bodies floated up from the water and were carried by the current. The current dragged them towards the rocky shallows. Minutes passed as their bodies just floated there and then a single particularly strong pull from the current roused the female of the two into the waking world. Her pale and nearly translucent eyelids flickered open and her glowing, cobalt blue eyes peered up into the clear blue sky as small tendrils of blue smoke floated into the air.

Zamira gazed blearily around for a few moments while she blinked rapidly to clear her field of vision and then realized that she was nearly entirely submerged in water. She sat up and looked around and noticed Aragorn's drenched body floating not ten feet away from her. She climbed to her feet and stumbled over to the unconscious man. She heaved him out of the water and into her arms and carried him to the dry shore where she lay him down and proceeded to check both herself and him for injuries.

After having shed her armor and left the Titansteel plates in the midday sun to dry she packed them all away in her satchel before digging out one of her last healing potions and a few of her Heavy Frostweave Bandages.

She found a long, ragged edged gash on the back of her head, probably from the rock she first hit upon impact with the river. She quickly used a Heavy Frostweave Bandage to heal the wound and then used the fabric to wash her face as much as possible. She also tended to the bloody, raw and open wound on Aragorn's left shoulder and just as she finished tying off the bandage his steel colored eyes flickered open.

"Good, you're awake. How do you feel?" The Death Knight asked as she peered down at him from her kneeling position at his side with her Runeblade lying off to the side on the rocks.

"To be honest… I feel horrible. Like a herd of wild horses have trampled over my carcass multiple times." The Ranger groaned out as he rolled from his side onto his back and stared blankly up at the sky.

"Well at least that you retained your correct state of mind and an undamaged nervous system. It was a rather large fall we took but my body and armor absorbed much of the damage, which is why only your arm is injured." She said bluntly as she extended and gloved hand and hauled the man to his wobbly, booted feet.

"Sometimes you are far too blunt, Zamira. But I guess that could be considered a blessing by some." He said as he looked around.

"We're far away from where we should be. But I have a plan to get us to Helms Deep in time. But before we leave, drink all of this, it will heal your wounds and ease the pain." She said extending a flask filled with healing potion which he took gratefully, uncorked and then chugged down.

His facial expressions were humorous as his dark eyebrows furrowed and then his eyes bugged out slightly at the burning cinnamon flavor of the potion. But it did its job as the open shoulder wound from beneath the bandage closed rapidly into untouched flesh and his posture seemed to loosen as the pain faded away.

"I thank you, this potion is extremely helpful. Now how do you propose that we get to Helms Deep before the battle?" Aragorn asked curiously as Zamira tucked Mistrend and her baldric into her satchel and then swept a hand over the rocky ground with a faint smile.

"Flying, of course." She stated as a large billowing cloud appeared once more and the rattling of bones came again and a glowing blue mass formed in various sections of the smoke cloud.

"I have need of your services once again, Glacios." She said in a stern tone of voice with the steely double-timbre echoing through the nearby area.

"I shall always heed to your orders, Master." The Frostwyrm said as he knelt slightly to the ground and then noticed the presence of Aragorn who looked just as nervous as the blonde elf had been to fly for the first time.

"Come, Aragorn, there is no time to waste." Zamira said as she unexpectedly heaved the man into the saddle on Glacios' neck and then clambered up to sit in front of him.

"You will direct us." She continued as the Ranger as a precaution wrapped his muscular arms around her waist and clung to her as Glacios began to lope forward and spread his wings to catch the wind on the tatters of leathery membrane still left.

With a powerful flap the three of them were airborne and Aragorn tightened his grip on the undead woman in front of him before scanning the horizon for the way to Helms Deep. He noticed a particular hill that he had seen labeled on a map that King Théoden had shown him and pointed in that direction with one of his arms.

"Fly that way." He shouted over the rushing wind and Zamira nodded signaling that she had heard him. Zamira took the long, thick reigns to the Frostwyrm in her hands and tugged the right side hard, sending Glacios into a steady banking turn to the right.

They flew swiftly over the grassy plains and rocky outcroppings as the undead dragon's wing beats covered a few leagues in just a few flaps. As the end of the day came nearer they saw a dark mass moving across the land and with a tug and snap of the reigns Glacios dove down and began gliding lower as Aragorn and Zamira peered at the mass.

It was an army. A massive army made entirely of the Uruk-hai of Isengard, controlled by the evil White Wizard, Saruman. Zamira pulled up quickly on the reigns and Glacios swooped back upwards. From then on Zamira pushed him faster and faster towards Helms Deep at Aragorn's insistence that they warn them quickly.

Through the night they flew continuously and then by mid-morning on the second day of their flight they dipped down from some sparse cloud cover and Aragorn pointed to the side of a large dark gray cliff. Nestled within the rocks was a decent sized fortress made of solid stone with a large wall protecting the inner area of the cliffside nook. There were shouts of alarm as the undead dragon dove down lower but the shouts of a single blonde elf halted the drawing of bows and throwing of spears.

The wall neared and Zamira pulled back on the reigns slightly signaling for Glacios to land upon the wall. With a crack the solid bones of his claws connected with the stonework and his large talons dug into the mortar as the Frostwyrm perched upon the wall.

Through the crowds of armed soldiers, roaming women and playing children there came the gruff shouts of a familiar red bearded Dwarf just as Zamira helped Aragorn climb down from Glacios' saddle.

"Where are they? Where are they? Get out of the way! I'm going to kill one and attempt to maim the other!" Gimli's voice said as it made its way closer and closer to their position and then the Dwarf in question barged out of the crowd.

"You both are the luckiest, the canniest and the most reckless people I've ever known." Gimli said with a happy smile as he embraced Aragorn and then moved to hug the Death Knight before she narrowed her eyes and took a half-step backwards.

"Bless you, both of you." The Dwarf said with thick emotion in his voice.

"Gimli, where is the King?" Aragorn asked as Zamira turned to Glacios who seemed to want to say something.

"Yes?" She asked the Frostwyrm who met her gaze with a hopeful look in his own glowing blue eyes.

"I would like to stay and fight, Master, if that is alright with you?" He asked and Zamira nodded before narrowing her eyes.

"No eating any of the people here. They are our allies." She warned and he nodded his great skull in understanding before diving off the wall and then swooping upwards to perch at the very top of the fortress and looking outwards across the empty plains.

With a hand on her arm, Aragorn beckoned her to follow him as they left the wall area and proceeded to the inner areas of the fortress. But just before they could reach the chamber where King Théoden was staying a certain blonde elf appeared out of the crowd and blocked their path.

He glanced from the Death Knight to the Ranger with a serious look on his youthful face but then a smile bloomed across his lips he said something in Elvish to Aragorn before turning to the undead woman and grinning cheekily.

"You're late." He said and she narrowed her eyes before shrugging and pretending to look at the ceiling nonchalantly.

"You look terrible." Legolas said to Aragorn who only grinned and began laughing. They embraced in a manly way with their hands upon the other's shoulders. Legolas then held something out to the rugged Ranger and Zamira saw that it was the crystal pendant that Aragorn had always worn.

Aragorn nodded and replied in Elvish with something Zamira would assume was the equivalent of thank you. As the Ranger moved to go into the open chamber Legolas held out a hand stopping Zamira from moving forward to follow.

"What? We need to report…" Zamira began to say in a protesting manner before a pair of warm lips crashed onto her and the thin, but muscular arms of the blonde elf wrapped around her. Her eyes went wide for a moment before they slid shut as the elf's lips began to moving against her own and she felt herself succumb to the moment.

Moments seemed to pass as minutes, hours, maybe even days and it would not have mattered to the blonde haired Elf and the mostly dead woman in his arms as they shared a passion in the simple touching of their lips. Light grey moving in sync with pale pink in a harmonious dance of emotion and passion. But then reality came back and smacked them upside the head… metaphorically.

"Never do that to me again." He whispered to her, their lips still only millimeters apart as his blue eyes met her own that were hazed over with emotion as the walls the Death Knight had carefully constructed since her resurrection crumbled bit by bit.

"I shall try not to, but I make no promises." Zamira replied looking only slightly up at the elf that seemed close to tears but those of joy, not grief or sadness. Zamira unwound her arms from around Legolas' neck and took a step back before catching one of his hands in her own cold one and tugging him after her in the direction the Ranger had left not a minute earlier.

"We bring grave news, the King must hear of it." She said simply as the blonde elf loyally walked alongside her thoroughly enjoying the fact that her bare flesh was touching his and that his Death Knight was finally showing emotions more publicly.

They entered the King's chamber and found him pacing back and forth with Aragorn standing off to one side and various heavily armed soldiers sitting and standing in other areas of the room.

"A great host, you say?" King Théoden asked.

"All Isengard is emptied." Aragorn replied seriously with a grave expression.

"How many?" The King asked.

"Ten thousand strong at least." The Ranger stated and Zamira nodded in agreement as she too had attempted to count the great black army of Uruk-hai but lost count.

"Ten thousand?" The golden haired King asked incredulously with his blue eyes opened wide in horror.

"It is an army bred for a single purpose: To destroy the world of Men. They will be here by nightfall." Aragorn said as the King turned away and angrily stomped away with a fierce expression.

"Let them come!" He cried as he exited and began ordering soldiers left and right. They all followed him down through the city as he gave his orders and as the townspeople able-bodied enough helped prepare the defenses.

"I want every man and strong lad able to bear arms to be ready for battle by nightfall." He ordered one of his higher ranking officers as they came to the main gate of Helms Deep located high up on a causeway of stone.

"We will cover the causeway and the gate from above. No army has ever breached the Deeping Wall or set foot inside the Hornburg!" King Théoden explained to the waiting man, elf, undead woman and dwarf as they listened intently.

"This is no rabble of mindless Orcs. These are Uruk-hai. Their armor is thick and their shields broad." Gimli said harshly and the King glared down at the red bearded Dwarf.

"I have fought many wars, Master Dwarf. I know how to defend my own keep." Théoden said lowly as he stalked back through the repaired gate and began to continued giving orders and explaining to Aragorn and Legolas about the defenses of the fortress while Zamira remained behind with Gimli at the back of the group.

"Don't let his foolishness for accepting advice get to you, Gimli." She whispered to the red bearded Dwarf who nodded and gave a grunt of acknowledgement.

"They will break upon this fortress like water on rock. Saruman's hordes with pillage and burn. We've seen it before. Crops can be resown… Homes rebuilt. Within these walls we will outlast them." The Rohan King said with pride.

"They do not come to destroy Rohan's crops or villages. They come to destroy its people, down to the last child." Aragorn protested and Zamira nodded in agreement. During her time with The Scourge sure they did burn crops and destroy villages but they also went for the people, whose corpses with add to the ranks of their massive army of death.

At the comment Théoden spun around and grabbed Aragorn by the leather jerkin and frowned deeply.

"What would you have me do? Look at my men. Their courage hangs by a thread. If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance." He hissed out thought Zamira and most definitely Legolas still heard his words.

"Send out riders, My Lord. You must call for aid." Aragorn pleaded, trying to reason with stubborn King.

"And who will come? Elves? Dwarves? Mysterious beings from other worlds? We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead." The King said darkly, shooting a spiteful glance at Gimli, Legolas and Zamira who were mildly surprised by such hostility, except for Zamira who actually did expect it from the Rohan King.

"Gondor will answer." Aragorn said with a tone that said he was sure of himself and his answer.

"Gondor? Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us? Where was Gon-? No, my Lord Aragorn, we are alone." The King said finitely as he tromped off and just before his cloak was out of view and his voice was out of range Zamira caught something that made her blood boil at the future confrontations she knew it would bring.

"Get the women and children into the caves." Théoden's voice said as it carried and Zamira frowned before turning around and maneuvering her way out onto the Wall for the time being to waste some time until night came and she decided to arm herself and strap on her armor. Just as she sat down upon the wall a flapping of wings sounded in the air and Glacios landed heavily beside her.

"This fight will be a good one. I can sense it." The Frostwyrm said with happiness in his deep double-timbre voice.

"Indeed. I would have to agree with you." Zamira responded and then turned when she heard the clomping of armored boots and the clinking of chainmail.

"Hey, you! Woman! Get away from that ghastly beast! You should be getting to the caves!" Two soldiers yelled at the undead woman who shot them a baleful look and then turned back to gaze at the flats beyond the wall.

"Didn't you hear us? What are you, daft and deaf?" One asked and Zamira turned her head sharply and glared at the soldiers.

"I think not. I am fighting with you pathetic living Men, so leave before I let Glacios devour you." She warned as Glacios let out a rattling growl from his ribcage and swung his bone, spiked mace-like tail in the air before smashing it down onto the stone which fractured under the force of the blow. The two soldiers fled quickly but in their place Legolas strode out with a dark expression on his fair face.

"What troubles you?" She asked him as he sat next to her and leaned his head on her left shoulder and let out a heavy sigh.

"Aragorn and I have argued about something. I said some insensitive things and now regret them." He replied and Zamira nodded.

"What did you say?" She questioned curiously.

"That there is no way we are going to win this battle and a lot of the Men are going to die. Even with your superior powers at our disposal, at the best of the worst outcomes only you and I will survive the night. Also since the majority of the three hundred soldiers here aren't even soldiers, just normal people who've never wielded a weapon before in their life." Legolas said quietly and Zamira nodded in understanding.

"That may be true but at least they are willing to fight and die. But despite this argument you best go and apologize to Aragorn, you do not want to go into a battle with harsh feelings between the two of you. Since as you said this is probably not going to end well and death is very likely." She said and lightly pushed the elf off her so he could sit up on his own.

"Once again you speak surprisingly wise words for such a young being. Though they are still quite negative sounding, you do make a valid point about the likelihood of survival." The blonde elf said as Glacios, becoming bored by the conversation dove off the stone wall and went back to his perch atop the fortress and watching the flats.

"Of course it's going to be negative but honest. Battles and wars can never truly be put into a positive light. But I will not allow us to lose this battle since all these victories insure my ability to return to Azeroth, at some point in the future." Zamira said and Legolas nodded slowly in understanding.

"If we don't make it out of this battle alive tonight, I'd like to ask for one favor before the fight." The blonde elf proposed hesitantly and Zamira raised a thin, black eyebrow.

"What?" She asked.

"Kiss me. I always start them, but I want one from you." he said with a serious look and Zamira quirked her eyebrows up again and chuckled under her breath.

"What's so funny? This is a perfectly serious request! Anyways, I think since you had me worried sick after you fell off the cliff that I deserve more than one, but I'm only asking for a single kiss from you." He went on to continue but when he opened his mouth to continue Zamira slapped her palm over his gaping jaws and made a 'shh'-ing noise.

"I'm laughing because if I was asked that from anyone else they would have asked for more than a simply kiss. Knowing Darion, the Highlord of the Ebon Blade and leader of us freed Death Knights, he would have asked for two nights with nothing but rough, violent sex with my body at his disposal at any time." Zamira stated bluntly and watched in amusement as Legolas' eyes widened significantly and his jaw fell slack. She removed her hand, but not before using her index finger to close his mouth from its open state.

"To demand such a thing is so… barbaric, ungentlemanly and brutish. Your world is definitely a lot different than here where only whores can couple with another person outside of wedlock." Legolas said quietly and Zamira nodded.

"I was able to guess such a thing when you too didn't demand a few hours of such an activity. But a single kiss is what you want?" She asked and the elf nodded with a soft smile and a twinkle in his sky blue eyes even in the fading light of the mostly cloudy daylight.

Without warning Zamira leaned forward and pressed her cold lips to the blonde elf's and let her very little experience with the tender, romantic act of kissing take control. A few short moments passed and they broke apart, Legolas taking in breaths of air a little faster than normal while Zamira just sat back and looked as normal as before the tender kiss between them.

"Now go apologize to Aragorn and set things straight. I have to put my armor on." She said while Legolas hopped down from the edge of the wall and with a nod and a smile towards her walked briskly away and back into the main areas of the fortress.

After watching the elf, that was hers, walk away Zamira gazed out over the flats and wondered about the odd behavior she had been displaying openly quite recently. She knew that it was entirely because of this blooming romantic relationship with the blonde elf that had just left her presence but she was beginning that think that maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. What she truly meant was compared the tender care and love that Legolas had shown her, the rough passion with no true title that Darion Mograine had shown her was like a spark compared to a bonfire.

**And that my friends is the end of Chapter 16, the technical Chapter 16 Part1 but not really anymore… **

**Anywho… read, review, do that fanfic reader stuff. Make the xXchibitsukiXx a happy authoress… and make the Sharnorasian Empire a happy beta-ess. Though soon… Probably within the week I will be changing that pen-name to something a bit more serious that I can literally be referenced by.**

**I LOVE YOU ALL! 3 3 3**


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: Another chapter, so soon too! I must be on a roll. Just kidding, I'm a lazy ass and I know it. Anywho is a continuation of Chapter 16, which I was forced to split into two parts because of word count since I like to stay within 6-10 thousand words so as to not write a chapter that it too long. Anyways... onto the good stuff.**

**Dedications/Review Replies:**

**-Sharnorasian Empire: Blarg… I have said my piece and now silence will ensue.**

**-Zhar of Shadows: Indeed, indeed. *chuckles evilly* Prepare to be entertained. And thank you for the compliments.**

**-Daval Prestor: … I have no comment to this review. Soooo how is destroying Azeroth for the Old Gods going?**

**Disclaimer: World of Warcraft belongs to Blizzard Entertainment. Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and all his associates. **

**Claimer: Zamira Snowfang, all OCs (unless specified) belong to me and under the penalty of the law shall not be stolen or harsh penalties will ensue… such as all of your underwear being burnt in public.**

**Ladies and Gentlemen, it is now my great honour to give you Eternal Undeath Chapter 17. **

The preparations were in full force as the grayish sun sank behind the cliffs and doused Helms Deep into the black of night. Zamira had not yet moved from her spot upon the wall and neither had Glacios who was peering out into the darkness searching for any sort of movement on the flats. Zamira, who was tired of waiting and just sitting idly, even though she had sharpened Mistrend for a good hour after her encounter with the elf, decided that it was time to armor herself.

As she untied the enchanted leather satchel from her belt she leapt from the wall where she had sat and stretched out a bit. Glacios watched her from the corner of his eye but was truly not concerned with the actions of his master. Out of the satchel the undead woman drew forth her armor piece by piece and inspected it one last time with her decent night vision before finding its condition to be satisfactory.

She tucked her tunic into her leggings and took her boots of her feet before she buckled on her Sanctified Scourgelord's Legplates and made sure that the clips were secure and the leather straps were as tight as possible. Then she slid her feet into her Spiked Deathdealers and made sure that the metal fastenings would not come undone until she took them off herself. Then she pulled out her Sanctified Scourgelord's Battleplate and with practiced ease slid one arm through and then the other before buckling the sides and the shoulder straps into place.

Next she attached her Shoulderplates of the matching armor set and made sure that the spikes on her left shoulder were sharp and that the glowing skull face on her right shoulder was glowing properly. Next she began to pull on her Tabard of the Ebon Blade but then stopped just short of pulling her head through the opening. Shaking her head she tossed the dusky purple, blue and black scrap of enchanted cloth to the side and began digging through her satchel looking for another.

After rummaging around for a few moments she smiled lightly and pulled out the crimson red and gold tabard of another faction of mighty beings she just happened to be exalted with for her efforts supporting their cause. The Tabard of the Wyrmrest Accord was another scrap of enchanted cloth she wore with pride. Becoming a champion of the Dragons was no small feat, and gaining their trust itself was a struggle all on its own. Stretched across the vibrant crimson red cloth was a golden embroidered replica of the Wyrmrest Temple with two spread dragon wings on either side of the stone building.

After pulling the tabard over her head she picked up her belt from the ground. She fastened the Girdle of the Impaler over it and reattached her satchel to the plated belt since she had most of her armor already out in the open air. After that she strapped on her Titanium Spikeguards and made sure the metal bracers were secure and then picked up her Sentinel's Winter Cloak from the ground and unclasped the leaf brooch holding the elvish cloak to her back. The grayish green cloak fell to the ground and she then draped the other cloak over her shoulders and fastened it with a simple silver brooch. Zamira then bent over and folded the elvish cloak given to her in Lorien and stuffed it into her enchanted satchel.

Suddenly the door to the walkway burst open and a red faced King of Rohan and two armored guards came stalking forwards.

"Woman! You dare to have the audacity to threaten my men!" King Théoden roared at her in a total rage. But Zamira just cast him a disdainful eye from the side and pulled her Sparkling Onyxia Tooth Pendant over her head and let the large pearly white dragon fang hang onto her chest.

"Answer me!" He roared once more and Glacios growled from his perch on the wall and turned his body to face the angered King.

"My Master has no need to answer a pathetic man such as you." The Frostwyrm growled out in the echoing, double-timbre tone of all the intelligent undead servants of the Scourge, or former servant.

"Silence yourself, Beast! This is no conversation for a monster, though your disgusting Master is close to the border between human and a monster." One of the solders to the King's right said with a sneer in both the undead dragon's direction and then a scathing glare in the direction of the female Death Knight who narrowed her eyes. She recognized this soldier as the one called Gamling, the partner of Hama, the man who had been slain by a wolf-beast rider.

"You are in no position to be threatening us, mortal. Speak your thoughts now King, or leave now before I can no longer promise my servant's peacefulness." Zamira hissed out restraining both her anger and attempted to stave off Glacios' own fury.

"Fine then, I came to say that as a woman you are required to go to the caves. There are no if, ands or buts about it. Your powers cannot amount to so much that you could help us against this attacking Uruk-hai army." King Théoden said bluntly and Zamira narrowed her eyes more until they were mere slits of glowing blue fury.

"Once again you doubt my powers, foolish king. By the Nether! You should be honored that I am even standing here ready to risk my own life, however twisted and little it may be, for your people!" Zamira hissed out angrily and stalked forward towards the King who only then seemed to notice the error of his words.

"How dare you speak to the King…" Gamling began to protest before Zamira turned on him with a furious expression.

"SILENCE! YOU SHALL SAY NOTHING!" She roared and then turned on the King who was shaking slightly.

"Count yourself lucky, little man, that to kill you would to ruin these peoples' hope for survival. I suggest that you think upon your mistakes and correct them before this fight starts or you may find my blade slipping from my grasp and striking down not just an Orc." Zamira hissed out as she stood right in front of the dark golden haired King, who looked just about on the verge of wetting himself.

She turned her back on the King and stalked back towards her Frostwyrm who was watching the scene with wary eyes. Then from behind her she heard the clomping of boots then in a flurry of movement Glacios leapt forward and Zamira dodged to the side of the Wall's walkway. She turned and saw that Glacios had caught Gamling's raised sword in his jaws and with a crunching noise the blade shattered and the man collapsed to the ground with wide, fearful eyes.

"Glacios, leave them. It's not worth their blood when there are many more to kill in the nearing future." Zamira said as she laid her bare hand on the cold skull of the snarling Frostwyrm, that turned to her and with an echoing grumble of dissatisfaction the Frostwyrm turned away from the frightened Gamling, shaking King and one less soldier than they originally arrived with.

Without a word the two remaining humans dashed out of the door, though King Théoden attempted to walk out with some dignity. But when his now armored back disappeared Zamira could have cared less if he had even crawled out like a newborn infant. She turned to Glacios and shook her head at the undead dragon.

"You let your rage act out. That was a bad move on our part." She said as she walked back to the area where the remainder of her armor was lying on the stone of the Wall.

Continuing with her preparations Zamira pulled on her Sanctified Scourgelord's Gauntlets and then slipped on her two rings with one on each of her hands. On her left hand's middle finger she wore her Frostbrood Sapphire Ring and then on her right hand's index finger she wore her Thrice Fanged Signet. Lastly she placed her Medallion of the Alliance and her Living Ice Crystals into their set places attached to her belt.

Finally she picked up her leather baldric from the ground and buckled the straps around her shoulders and around her waist. After buckling the baldric she picked up Mistrend from the ground and slid it into its partial scabbard and made sure that when withdrawing the massive, two-handed Vampiric Runeblade would not interfere with any of her armor. Finding that everything was set Zamira nodded to Glacios who launched into the sky once more and the Death knight ventured down into the interior areas of the fortress.

As she walked she noticed the lit torches and the scurrying of Helms Deep's soldiers and guards as they stationed themselves along the Walls. Even as she made her progressive way downwards in the fortress she caught the wary, fearful and awed stares of soldiers here and there as they gazed upon her armored form. She smirked at the thought and continued to wear she assumed the elf, dwarf and ranger she had come to know quite well were readying themselves.

As she entered the armory she found that her prediction was correct minus the presence of one particular red bearded Dwarf. But in the air was a newfound sense of kinship between the blonde elf who turned his blue eyed gaze upon her and the rugged Ranger who also looked over his shoulder at her.

"So you have apologized as I said you should?" Zamira asked with a faint smirk as she strode forward towards the elf and man. Legolas nodded with a sheepish smile and Aragorn grinned from ear to ear.

"So your apology was because of a little outside help, hmm, old friend? I knew it was too good to be true." The Ranger said, falsely putting a saddened expression on his face while Legolas turned to look the other way; but then Aragorn began chuckling and the elf followed in suit.

Then the tromping of boots came and they all turned to see Gimli struggling with a shirt of chainmail that seemed to be straining around his barrel-like chest.

"If we had time, I'd get this adjusted." The Dwarf groused as the chainmail finally came free and the long skirt hit the floor with a chime of metal on metal. Zamira raised an eyebrow and glanced out of the corner of her eye at the elf, who seemed on the verge of laughter and the Ranger who seemed just as amused as the Death Knight was.

"It's a little right across the chest." Gimli stated with an oblivious look at the three larger beings in front of him. Suddenly in the silence of the night a horn rang out, and then another until their noise was trumpeting.

"That is no Orc horn." Legolas stated as he, followed by Zamira and Aragorn rushed out of the armory and back into the upper reaches of the fortress leaving the red-bearded Dwarf to struggle with the long shirt of the chainmail.

Running in upon the scene Zamira was surprised to find a whole army of Elves waiting in the passageways of the fortress. At their head was the March Warden of Lorien, whose nose seemed to have healed flawlessly. The blonde elf turned his eyes towards Aragorn and continued what he had been saying before.

"We come to honor that allegiance." Haldir said as Aragorn rushed down the stone steps and greeted the blonde elf and after a hesitant delay embraced him strongly.

"You are most welcome." Aragorn said with a smile and Legolas strode forward and greeted his distant kinsmen while Zamira stayed off to the side nearer to Aragorn. Haldir after breaking from the Ranger's grip turned to the King Théoden and continued his speech.

"We are proud to fight alongside Men once more." The March Warden said with a noble incline of his head before his gray eyes turned and spotted Zamira.

"Greetings, Commander." Haldir said solemnly and bent at the waist with his hand on his chest in a traditional elvish bow of respect.

"And to you, March Warden. I am pleased to see that my attack against your personal being has not left you disfigured." Zamira said in a tone holding no emotion as she nodded back at the blonde haired elf.

Within minutes the battle plans had been altered and the elvish forces of Lorien and the few from Rivendell stood proudly upon the Deeping Wall and some were stationed behind it. Legolas and Zamira stood beside Gimli amongst them and Glacios had found a new place to perch higher up on the cliffside and out of direct line of sight.

They waited in silence and then the drumming of hides and the stomping of armored feet began to rumble in the distance, soon the light of fires became visible and the Uruk-hai army of Isengard had arrived at Helms Deep.

Zamira looked to her left when she heard the grumblings of the Dwarf and glancing around Legolas she saw what Gimli's problem was. He was too short and could not see over the wall.

"You could have picked a better spot." The Dwarf said with a sigh as he stood on his tip-toes and tried to peer over the wall. Aragorn then strode up and came to stop between Gimli and Legolas.

"Well, lad, whatever luck you live by, let's hope it lasts the night." Gimli said bluntly as he looked up at the rugged Ranger. Just then a flash of lightning lit up the sky and the roar of thunder rolled across the plains. Zamira smirk evilly and looked up at the sky as she held her helmet under her arm and tried to keep her crazed laughter suppressed. The bloodlust and hunger for battle were already so strong within her blood that it took all her strength to not leap from the wall and charge towards the oncoming army.

"Your friends are with you, Aragorn." Legolas said with hope.

"Let's hope they last the night." Gimli quipped grimly as Aragorn patted the Elf and Dwarf on the shoulder and then met Zamira's gaze and with a nod walked back the way he had came.

Not seconds after that another crash of thunder deafened ears and bolt of lightning lit up the clouded night sky and then the pitter-patter of rain fell from the heavens. It rang against the metal of armor and Zamira looked up and then shook her loose hair out of the way before putting down her helm and tying it back with a thong of leather. She then turned to the blonde elf she had taken as her lover and grinned widely.

"Nice weather, huh?" She said loudly over the sound of the rain and then looked back at the army ahead and picked her helm up and placed it upon her head. Her breath fogged out of the helmet and she buckled the strap that would keep it on her head before she shifted her weight, shrugged her shoulders and made last minute checks on her armor.

Aragorn further down the line began to shout out orders and encouragements in Elvish to the elves lined along and behind the wall. Out on the flats the Uruk-hai Army came to a stop when one of them that stood upon a rocky protrusion on the plains let out a roar-like call that sounded more like a dying cow to Zamira.

"What's happening out there?" Gimli asked as he hopped up and down on his feet trying to see beyond the wall.

"Shall I describe it to you? Or would you like me to find you a box?" Legolas asked back with a playful smirk and Zamira let an echoing chuckle emanate from her helm.

"Good one, Elf. Then again I could always pick you up too, Gimli." Zamira said glancing down at the Dwarf who shot her a look that if she tried he would attempt to maim her.

The leading Uruk once again let out a roar followed by another and the army began to bang their spears against the muddy ground and smash their swords and shields together to make a god awful clamor of noise. With a sound of metal Aragorn unsheathed his sword and held it at the ready. Those of the defenders army that wielded a bow drew back with an arrow loaded and waited for the signal.

The roars and thudding of the Uruk-hai Army was beginning to grate on Zamira's nerves as she waited patiently for her own signal. Out of nowhere one arrow was fire prematurely and struck an Uruk in the neck gap of his armor. Aragorn called out in elvish once again and on the fortress walls Zamira saw an old man that looked shocked and his bow missing its arrow.

The struck Uruk's body fell forward to the ground and landed heavily in the newly formed mud. His fellows began to call out in anger with roars and screeches and with a final roar from their leader they all charged forward.

They sprinted with all haste towards the wall and when they came within range Zamira knew her time had come.

"Zamira, now!" Aragorn shouted out and with a grin she unsheathed Mistrend and held the blade up in the air and angled slightly to the right in a directional manner.

She waited and then heard the crumbling of rocks from above and glanced behind her shoulder to see Glacios spreading his wings from his perch on the cliffside. An earth shattering roar echoed over the flats as he launched his massive skeletal body from the cliff and swooped downwards over the forces of elves. Then within seconds was over the army of Uruk-hai and let loose a blast of frigid icy breath that killed a couple hundred in one fell swoop.

It was not the death of a good portion of the attacking that was the purpose of Glacios' first frontal attack but its was the response his swooping, skeleton produced from the Uruk-hai. Their charge all but ground to a half as they spun on the biggest threat they could see and that gave the archers the chance they needed. Even with the distraction the Frostwyrm's attack caused, a good portion of the front lines still charged forward.

Aragorn once again called out in elvish and the elven army of Lorien and Rivendell all drew an arrow, nocked it and aimed their bows. From her left Legolas said something in Elvish, but was then drowned out by Aragorn's fierce shout and the elves all fired their arrows into the attacking horde of Uruk-hai. Many fell under the onslaught of arrows as each of the elven archers' arrows found their target with deadly accuracy.

"Did they hit anything?" Gimli roared out and Zamira shot him a glance from the corner of her eye.

"No, they all missed." She said in an unemotional tone and watched with twisted glee as the Dwarf almost began to believe her. Then the humans guarding the fortress itself let loose their own volley of arrows that were much less devastating to the charging Uruks.

With a second command the archers from behind the Wall fired their own arrows and Zamira heard the whistle of the arrows as they flew by not half a foot over her helmeted head. The continuous rain of arrows brought down many of the armored beasts but still more poured through.

"Send them to me! Come on!" Gimli yelled fiercely and Zamira agreed within her mind. Not being part of the battle was taking a strain on her building hunger for battle and it was becoming harder and harder to stay still and in position.

Then another twang pierced through the air and some of the elves on the wall began to fall as the Uruks fired crossbows up at them. Zamira grunted as she felt one crossbow bolt as it struck her in the chest but shattered on impact with the Titansteel plating.

Looking over the wall, Zamira saw that the Uruks were coming with ladders and she grinned from under her helm.

"Gimli, they brought ladders." She called to the Dwarf with a wide grin. He met her gaze and then grasped his two-handed battle axe.

"Good!" He shouted and readied for battle.

"Swords! Swords!" Aragorn ordered out and the elves unsheathed their curved blades while Zamira wrapped her left hand around the grip of Mistrend and readied herself.

As the first leapt from the ladder Gimli swung upwards and gutted the ugly beast right then and there while Zamira grabbed the end of the ladder and with a mighty shove sent it falling backwards to crush a few of the Uruks. But only a few feet further down another ladder came and Uruks poured onto the wall. Zamira spun around and swiftly beheaded an attacking Uruk before turning Mistrend in her hands and crushed the skull of another with the spiked ball shaped pommel of her Runeblade. The true fight had begun and Mistrend and Zamira were overjoyed with the feeling of the black Orc blood oozing over the plates of her armor.

Over the flats Glacios continued to swoop down upon the attack horde and every time alternating between freezing a mass of them with his icy breath, catching a few in his jaws and crushing them, picking them up in his talons and then dropping them from great heights. He even resorted to sending them flying with a well aimed swipe of his clubbed tail.

Back on the wall Zamira was killing every Uruk left and right, anything hostile within ten feet of her perished with seconds as she unleashed and frigid blast of icy air that froze a few Uruks solid and she then impaled them all through their body. She spent an unholy rune and with a Death Grip pulled a particularly fierce Orc away from a weak little elf and killed the beast herself.

Glancing over her shoulder she noticed at Legolas and Gimli were yelling numbers at one another and she was confused at their antics before she turned and grabbed an Uruk by the neck and with a tight squeeze crushed its windpipe. She dropped the limp body to the ground before she charged forward and shouldering into another with her left shoulder grinning happily as she felt new blood oozing down her arm as the spikes of her shoulderplate pierced the flesh of the beast.

She heard yelling from Aragorn and saw that the remaining elvish archers were being directed to shoot at the causeway where a large group of Uruks were using the turtle-strategy to approach the main gates of Helms Deep. Then as she watched their progress she saw something odd. A group of Uruks were walking back and forth with giant spiked balls in their hands. Her eyes then widened as she saw a larger, unarmored Uruk come running towards the place the spiked balls has disappeared to with large lit torch grasped in his dark, meaty hands.

She shouldered her way past people as she heard Aragorn yelling for Legolas to shoot him down but as two arrows lodged into the Uruks body it did not stop. With a battle cry of her own Zamira leapt over the wall and landed just in front of the Uruk as he came stumbling towards her. She charged at him and attempted to push him back or knock the torch from his hands but it did not work as another pair of Uruks came up behind the other and shoved both him and Zamira down into the water-filled culvert under the stones of the Wall.

She was blinded by both light and noise as the spiked balls, she know knew to be a premature form of explosives, went off all around her. She faintly saw the torch bearing Uruk get disintegrated in the blast but all she felt was sweltering heat and as if she was being pummeled upon by a magnataur. She felt Mistrend come loose from her hand and her helm's strap snap under the force and the Titansteel helmet fall from her head.

For a moment she felt the darkness of unconsciousness come to wrap her in black but then a cold shock of water roused her from her dazed stupor. She sprung up from the rubble and glanced around for Mistrend which she saw not five feet away imbedded in a sheet of stone. She ripped the blade from the rock and looked around and only then noticed the unconscious Aragorn twenty feet away.

The undead woman rushed over and tugged his limp body from the ground and gave him a hard smack in the face to wake him up from state of unconsciousness. His eyes opened blearily but then cleared within moments.

"Now is not the time to be resting, Aragorn!" Zamira scolded as she turned and saw a charging force of Uruks that were just about to reach them. But then a cry came from the broken edge of the wall and from it a now flying, red bearded Dwarf crashed down onto the mass of Uruks with a battle cry. He took down a few before he was knocked into the water by one Uruk's kick and Aragorn raised an arm and ordered the elves stationed behind the wall to fire a volley of arrows.

Then they all ran forward with their weapons drawn and engaged in battle once again with Zamira and Aragorn leading the charge. Looking up the Death Knight saw her Frostwyrm still swooping from above decimating the remaining forces of the Uruk-hai Army that were still out on the flats.

Zamira quickly beheaded two Uruks with one swing and then generated a ball of unholy energy in her right hand before throwing it at the nearest Uruk watching it suffocate and then dissolve into just a skeleton in armor. Hissing in pleasure, Zamira called her unholy powers to her and cast an arm out over the masses of bodies and watched as close to twenty previously dead Uruks came back under her power as her faithful ghouls.

Then she heard an odd noise of metal on rock and saw Legolas riding a shield down a set of stairs while rapidly firing off arrows before leaping away and the shield killed an Uruk with the momentum it had been traveling at. She then turned her attention back on the fight and led her ghouls back into the thick of the fray with Mistrend carving flesh wherever it was swung.

The battle was becoming desperate. It seemed that no matter how many Uruks they struck down, five would rise to take that one's place. Then the call came.

"Aragorn! Fall back to the Keep!" King Théoden's ordered from the highest wall of the fortress. Zamira wasted no time in sending her ghouls on a suicide charge and rising more and more to give the elves, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli time to climb onto the wall or for them to sneak in the back entrance.

Zamira climbed up the stairs onto the wall, wanting to make sure that as many as possible made it back to the keep alive. She heard Aragorn call to the March warden who was fighting not twenty feet in front of her who nodded and ordered her own men to retreat. Then she saw him get a rather harsh wound to the lower abdomen as he fought to save his own soldiers.

The undead woman rushed forward and slew all the surrounded Uruks with a blast of icy power and then heaved the blonde elf onto her back and began to run towards the Keep. Only as she ran did she noticed she was cut off from the rest of the retreating soldiers, but she did not dare drop the groaning March Warden and held him secure with one arm on her back and held Mistrend with her other.

"Go Zamira! Go!" Aragorn shouted as he joined her on the wall as they together fought their way through the Uruks and then the blood covered Ranger foolishly leapt onto a ladder and crashed with it onto the ground. Zamira knew he would be fine so she charged forward once more and finally reached the mild safety of the Keep where elves flooded around her trying to get to their March Warden.

"You four! Get him to the caves where the healers are!" She shouted at a group of the least injured elves she saw who she left the injured Lorien elf with as she worked her way through the increasing crowd that swarmed around the main gate.

"Hold them!" King Théoden called out as she entered and went to stand beside Gimli and Aragorn who were going to aid the soldiers holding the Uruk's back.

"How long do you need?" Aragorn asked.

"As long as you can give me." Théoden responded and then Aragorn turned to meet Gimli and Zamira's eyes nodded and bid them to follow him.

They snuck out of the fray using a smaller passageway and Aragorn led them to a single, metal plated, wooden door which swung open with very little noise. They crept out, Zamira trying especially hard not to let her armor make any loud noises. They peered around the corner of the wall and saw that they were even with the main gate and the beginning of the causeway where the attacking swarm of Uruks lunged back and forth trying to breach it.

"Come on. We can take them." Gimli whispered anxiously from in front of Zamira and Aragorn looked back at him.

"It's a long way." The Ranger said simply. The red bearded Dwarf glanced again and then seemed to argue with himself for a moment and then nodded his head in decision.

"Toss me." He said quietly.

"What?" Asked Aragorn, with a raised eyebrow.

"I cannot jump the distance! You'll have to toss me!" Exclaimed the Dwarf.

Aragorn nodded and began to move Gimli in front of him until the Dwarf stopped him and looked up with pleading eyes.

"Don't tell the Elf." Gimli begged and Aragorn nodded.

"Not a word." He said and Gimli glanced back at the helmetless Death Knight an expectant look and then frowned.

"Lassie, you have a large gash right above your left eye." Gimli said and Zamira frowned and raised a gauntleted hand to her brow and prodded at the flesh and found that there was indeed a large tear in her cold skin and that it was bleeding…sort of.

"Thank you, Gimli. Do not worry though, I will not tell Legolas either." She said with a simple nod.

Aragorn seeing their conversation had finished grabbed the Dwarf and with a mighty toss threw the Dwarf over the gap and onto the crowd of Uruks at the main gate. The Ranger jumped soon after followed by Zamira as they began to fight back the mass of attacking Uruks to give the soldiers time to bar the gates once again. By themselves the three began to beat back the horde on the causeway but from the corner of her eyes Zamira saw the two larger ladders being raised to the higher walls of the fortress itself. Then a third began to rise but before it could one of the ropes was cut loose and it fall backwards with a crash killing and injuring a fair amount of Uruks.

"Gimli! Aragorn! Zamira! Get out of there!" King Théoden called from the gate as it finally was barred and sealed shut. Then an Uruk leapt upon the Ranger and Dwarf while another tackled the Death Knight to the ground.

"Aragorn!" A familiar voice shouted from atop the wall as a thick rope was dropped down by the blonde elf of Mirkwood. Zamira urged the Dwarf and Man to go first as she used her powers of frost to freeze many of the attacking Uruks into a wall of ice to hold them at bay for a few short moments.

Then the two were pulled up by the elf and a few other men but Zamira had not had the chance to grab the rope. With a fierce roar Glacios landed on the causeway and Zamira scrambled into the saddle as the Frostwyrm leapt off the stonework and into the air where he climbed rapidly and then the Death Knight leapt off and onto the wall. He swooped away and once again began to kill the Uruks still outside the walls with his breath, talons, fangs and tail.

But it was too late, the Uruks had already penetrated the fortress of Helms Deep and the second retreat that night was called. Zamira ran and Legolas grabbed her metal plated arm as he dragged her along with the soldiers of Rohan and the remaining elves into the inner parts of the Keep and ultimately into the main chamber of Helms Deep itself. As the skies lightened in a foretelling of the coming dawn they had managed to barricade themselves into that chamber with what meager forces had still survived. Many had retreated all the way to the caves to have their wounds looked after and bound.

"The fortress is taken. It is over." King Théoden said with an accepting face and a deep set scowl, enhancing the lines that showed his true age.

"You said this fortress would never fall while you men defend it." Aragorn protested as he and Legolas grabbed a wooden bench from a table to use in fortifying the door. Zamira glanced over her shoulder as she use her own physical strength and her own body to hold the double doors closed. She frowned at the king before focusing on the doors again as they trembled against the battering ram of the Uruks.

"They still defend it. They have died defending it." The rugged Ranger said in a determined manner.

"Is there no other way for the women and children to get out of the caves?" Aragorn asked but was not answered.

"Is there no other way?" He asked again, but when the King did not respond Gamling decided to speak up.

"There is one passage. It leads into the mountains. But they will not get far. The Uruk-hai are too many." He said and Zamira grunted as she felt the battering ram begin to break through and the metal just barely touch her plate armor. A hand grabbed her cloak and began to drag her back while another man took her place holding the doors closed. Turning she saw that Legolas had pulled her out. She smiled slightly at him in a grateful manner and he nodded in return and laid a gentle peck on her dirt and blood stained cheek before once again grabbed more wood to bar the doors with.

"Tell the woman and children to make for the mountain pass. And barricade the entrance!" Aragorn shouted as he sent Gamling down the tunnel to the caves, but the voice of the King stopped him dead.

"So much death. What can Men do against such reckless hate?" Théoden said with a mourning expression as his pale and worn skin looked like the flesh of the dead.

"Ride out with me." Aragorn whispered but Zamira who had been standing nearby heard him. Théoden turned to look at him with a puzzled expression.

"Ride out and meet them." The Ranger continued looking at the King with a determined face.

"For death and glory." The King said.

"For Rohan. For your people." Aragorn said as he walked towards the King.

"The sun is rising." Gimli said as a small shaft of bright sunlight streamed into the chamber.

"Yes. Yes. The horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in the Deep one last time." King Théoden said as a new spark of determination lit in his eyes.

"Yes!" Shouted Gimli as he grasped his axe and a particularly strong bash of the battering ram sent the soldiers at the doors flying backwards before they rushed forward against to hold it. The King approached Aragorn with a steely expression.

"Let this be the hour when we draw our swords together." He said and then the preparations began as the horses of Rohan were led up the tunnels into the main chamber and the soldiers that were able mounted their steeds and prepared for one last charge. Gimli was given the task of running to the highest part of the fortress and blowing the great horn that rest there since he could not ride a horse.

Zamira summoned Oblivion, knowing that no longer would Glacios' attacks on the Uruks hold them back, and mounted the Acherus Deathcharger. After settling comfortably in the saddle of Oblivion and with Mistrend sheathed on her back, she rode up to Arod where Legolas sat at the ready with a borrowed sword in his hands.

"This is an unexpected end to the battle." She said quietly as they waited for the other soldiers to mount up.

"Indeed. But our chances of survival are much greater than before." The blonde elf replied but then silenced as the King began to speak once more.

""Fell deeds, awake. Now for wrath, now for ruin and a red dawn!" He cried out as the doors were broken down and the Uruks rushed in.

"Forth Eorlingas!" He shouted as they all galloped forward. From the upper reaches of the walls a deep bellowing horn could be heard as Gimli fulfilled his task. The horses crushed the Uruks beneath their hooves and Oblivion sought out to strike down any beast he could with his glowing hooves and armor plated body. They rode out of the shattered doors and slew any Uruks in their path as they galloped into the lower levels of the fortress towards the main gates.

They emerged onto the causeway and the Uruks dropped like flies under the blades of the army of Rohan and the Death Knight, Ranger and Elf and hooves of the charging horses. Then a shrill whinny echoed out over the flats and up between two large rocky boulders Zamira looked up and spotted Gandalf astride the white stallion, Shadowfax.

The Uruks as well noticed the newcomer and turned to prepare for some sort of onslaught as more and more mounted riders joined the shining white wizard upon the hill. With a cry the mounted riders charged down the hill with a thunderous sound of beating hooves. The Army turned to meet them but then with a thrust of his staff into the air, the sun rose at that very moment and blinded the Great Army of Isengard as the horsemen crashed upon them like a wave of destruction.

The battle soon transitioned for the better as the Uruks fell more and more and soon found it in their best interests to turn tail and run. Zamira cut down any that came near her and Oblivion was more than willing to chase down any fleeing Uruk and pummel it beneath his hooves until it no longer resembled its original form.

"Victory! We have victory!" Yelled King Théoden as the army finally unanimously turned tail and retreated but into a line of trees that had not been there before. But they did not seem to care as they plunged into the darkened woods.

"Stay out of the forest! Keep away from the trees!" A soldier called, who vaguely sounded like Éomer, but Zamira was not certain as she watched the fleeing behinds of the Uruk-hai. Then when the last Uruk disappeared into the forest the trees began to all but screech as they swayed from side to side in a violent dance. As well as the shrieks of the Uruks as they died that fell like beautiful music into Zamira's ears who clapped her hands a few times for the bloodthirsty trees.

Minutes passed and then the trees became still and the soldiers returned to the fortress where the wounded, women and children were brought back up from the caves and put in actual rooms. Outside the walls many of the perfectly able men, elves, along with Legolas, Gimli and Zamira helped to pile and burn the dead Uruk corpses. As well as pick out the bodies of the deceased men of Rohan and Elves of Lorien and Rivendell for burial.

Zamira after setting ablaze a pile of Uruk corpses approached Gimli and Legolas.

"Final count… forty-two." Legolas said as he cleaned the blood from the arms of his bow given to him by Lady Galadriel.

"Forty-two? That's not bad for a pointy-eared Elvish princeling. I myself am sitting pretty on forty-three." Gimli said in a gloating manner as he gestured to the Uruk body under him as he smoked on a long stemmed pipe.

With a flurry of motion, Legolas drew an arrow and shot it into the corpse under Gimli's buttocks, particularly close to the crotch of said red bearded Dwarf. Who looked up and glared at the blond elf, while Zamira choked on a fit of laughter that wanted to come out of her throat but merely watched on from the sidelines.

"Forty-three." Legolas preened with a smirk.

"He was already dead." Gimli protested.

"He was twitching." The blonde elf said with a confused look.

"He was twitching, because he's got my axe embedded in his nervous system!" Gimli yelled angrily as he pulled on the handle of his axe which was firmly stuck in the Uruk's skull and with every pull the arms and legs of the black beast twitched wildly.

"Legolas, I do believe the Dwarf is right on this one." Zamira said as she spoke up and strode in between the Elf and Dwarf who were glaring at one another.

"Fine then. I shall yield to you Dwarf this one time and admit that you have beaten me." The blonde elf said with a faint smirk and then took Zamira's hand in his and led her off into the fortress towards one of the more abandoned areas and then turned on her with a joyous smile.

"We won." He said in and happy tone and Zamira nodded.

"That we did. Against the supposed will of the fates we have won this battle." The Death Knight said with a faint smile as she saw the happiness in the sky blue eyes of the elf. But then the happiness faded into seriousness with a hint of sadness and Zamira frowned at the elf's sudden change in emotions. He strode forward and wrapped her carefully in his arms, careful to avoid the sharp edges and spikes of her armor and the dangerous edges of Mistrend.

"I was worried for you when the explosion happened. If anything were to kill you I was sure it was that very moment that I had lost you. But I looked up and Glacios was still flying and he would have disappeared if you had been dead. Then I saw you down in the rubble and I was so relieved that you were alive." He said in a breathy tone of voice as his shin rested on the cold shoulderplate of her right shoulder.

"You should not worry so much. I am very, very sturdy and it would take a lot to kill me." The undead woman responded and she wrapped her own arms around the Elf.

"I know, I know. But I cannot help my worry, I love you and it is ones nature to worry for those they love." Legolas whispered to her as he pulled his head back and lightly kissed her cold, grey lips and then pulled back to smile lovingly at the Death Knight.

"Ah, yes, I guess I can understand that. You were never in any true danger so I was not really worried for you as much. But I think I would have been if I had seen you in danger." Zamira replied as she leaned forward this time and pecked the pale pink lips of the blonde elf and then pulled away slightly and frowned at the bloodied state of her armor.

"I never even noticed this." Legolas said as he trailed one of his fingertips across the partially healed gash on her forehead and she grinned.

"I never would have noticed it either had Gimli not pointed it out to me. Come let us go and get cleaned up a bit." Zamira said as she began to drag the blonde elf behind her in search of Éowyn, whom she found not ten minutes later and asked for a room and some water so that the undead woman and the elf could clean themselves.

Not twenty minutes later they were sitting comfortably in a room with a washbasin between them taking turns with a scrap of cloth that they used to wash away the blood from their faces and the pieces of Zamira's armor and from Mistrend. Then the door opened and Aragorn stuck his head in through the opening and smiled at the sight of the Elf and Death Knight sitting calmly on the floor of the room.

"Come. The King and Gandalf want us to accompany them on a trip to Isengard to root out Saruman." The Ranger said and then exited. The Elf and Death Knight glanced at one another before he helped her get buckled into her armor once more before venturing out to join the small expedition to Isengard.

**And that is it… a bit of a cliffhanger but I swear it was not intentional. And now another huge thanks to my beta and best online friend, Sharnorasian Empire. I hope you all enjoyed it, and I hope most of you review because it honestly makes an author feel so much more appreciated than just a high view rate.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note: Woo, what a string of rather close together chapter updates. Man I feel like a hero. Nah, but really I've been pulling these chapters out of a magical hat (honestly devoid of all bunny rabbits) and then handing them to my wonderful beta who then pretty much looks at them, works her magic and then flings it back in my face. Anywho, nothing very important to say except for… CATACLYSM IS AWESOME! Teehee, WoW playing be the best pastime of many hours with nothing but staring at a computer screen.**

**Review Replies:**

**-Sharnorasian Empire: Hey you! Yeah you! I just wanted to say… I cannot thank you enough for being my beta. I greatly appreciate it.**

**-Zhar of Shadows: I do indeed believe you mentioned bloody. Unfortunately for you the Scourge will not be appearing until the sequel. Though in chapter 19 some… interesting things happen per say. But I shall say no more on the subject. But all in all thank you for sticking with this fanfiction and giving my work such kind compliments.**

**-diexhydra: Thank you, and here is that update you ordered.**

**-Rhavis: Spamming of the inbox is good! At least on my part, since I'm such a procrastinator. But here is a chapter that I know you desired.**

**-Ravenvanguard: Thanks! Yeah, I seem to have a talent with writing battle scenes for some reason. You should always be feeling happy when reading this fanfic… happiness is necessary and mandatory. I plan to keep it up; I'm on a roll here!**

**-Malozing: No problem, update is my job, besides writing the chapters. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you have in the past.**

**Disclaimer: Blizzard owns WoW. J.R.R. Tolkien owns the LotR Franchise and such.**

**Claimer: I own Zamira, the varying plotline and all OCs (unless specified not to be).**

**And in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… Chapter 18 has liftoff!**

Zamira and Legolas arrived in the open area just behind the destroyed and splintered wooden remains of the main gates. The pair looked out to see Éomer, Théoden, Gimli and Aragorn already waiting atop their noble steeds waiting for the elf and undead woman to join them. Zamira somewhat by accident met the blue eyed gaze of King Théoden and saw something odd in them, at least odd to her mind. There was a new form of respect in them, which was directed at her, and had clearly not been there before.

Without any needless words to be said Legolas leapt atop Arod, in front of Gimli, and took up the reigns in his hands. Zamira cast a hand out over the ground and summoned Oblivion who neighed into existence along with the customary cloud of pale grey, scentless smoke that came with the summoning of a mount.

She swung up into the saddle with her armor plates scraping against one another slightly at the movement. She felt eyes upon her and turn to meet the icy blue stare of Gandalf who smiled kindly and nodded his head in a manner of greeting. She returned the nod and nudged her Acherus Deathcharger into follow King Théoden as he led the small group out of the ruined gate and down the stone causeway. The causeway was still quite covered in dead Uruk bodies, but much fewer than before so they had to jump and weave their steeds around and over the disgusting corpses.

"So we are going to Isengard, to speak and, or kill this wizard Saruman?" She asked the white wizard who rode to her right upon the white Maeras stallion.

"Yes. It must be done for this threat on the western half of Middle-Earth to be ground to a halt. But first we must obtain information from him that we need to strike against the forces of Mordor." Gandalf replied with a stern and serious tone of voice.

Zamira nodded in agreement and continued on in silence as the group trotted out of the battlefield and towards the tops of the southeastern facing hills upon which an unnatural reddish orange glow was permeating the high hanging dark grey clouds and the faint rumbles of thunder could be heard.

As the crested the hill Zamira's eyes widened slightly at the sight before her. A heavy cloud of the darkest grey covered sky beyond a towering wall of jagged black mountains. Beyond which a raging red and orange glow emanated from, as if a truly magnificent and terrible storm was brewing. She thought for a few seconds and then knew that this was the reaction of the Dark Lord Sauron to their victorious battle against his twisted and demented wizarding puppet, Saruman.

"Sauron's wrath will be terrible, his retribution swift." Gandalf said as they reigned in their horses and watched the anger of Sauron where he raged beyond the mountains.

"The battle for Helms Deep is over. The battle for Middle-Earth is about to begin. All our hopes now lie with two little Hobbits somewhere in the wilderness." Gandalf continued as they turned away from the view upon Mordor and set off in a northwesterly direction towards the stronghold of Saruman.

They rode into the newly arrived forest, which had appeared during the battle. They all watched the trees warily since from their branches hung various plates of crude armor and bloody strings of flesh and tendons from the canopy. But it seemed to them that the moving forest had dealt its violence quota for the day and would let the troop pass through their boughs with no harm done to them.

The day seemed to pass by slowly even at the slow trotting pace they had to set in the deep and dense forest, but eventually the evening came and they all stopped and began to make a small camp. They did not dare light a fire for fear of offending the trees but ate a cold serving of dried meats, bread and well preserved cheese. Zamira even dug through the clustered depths of her enchanted satchel to pass around various exotic beverages from Azeroth including the two most common, but still delicious, wines from the floating mage city of Dalaran.

"This wine is superb! I have never in my days tasted anything this well balanced. Both the red and the white are very well made. Where are they made?" King Théoden said after he had taken a small sampling from both bottles and had found he liked wined quite a lot after growing up with only ale and the rare mead.

"They are made in the fields that are protected under the city of Dalaran. The mages there seem to have a liking for the gentle arts of making wines besides their constant squabbling over artifacts and the arcane lye lines of Azeroth." Zamira said as she packed away her armor, no longer wanted to wear the heavy plate.

"Mages? As in users of magic, correct?" Éomer inquired, after too had drank from the red wine before passing the glass bottle onto Aragorn who had asked for it next.

"Yes. The city is ruled by them, they call themselves The Six, the leaders of the Kirin Tor. It is they who supervise its defenses and its maintained height off the ground." The undead woman said as she finished packing away her armor and leaned back against the nearest tree trunk.

"Off the ground? The city is in the air? That is impossible, even for magic users!" Théoden said loudly and Zamira looked over at him with a bland look.

"Not in my world it isn't." She said simply and leaned her head back and closed her eyes, hoping that she would drift off to sleep before they could continue to bombard her with mindless questions. She felt a source of warmth settle down next to her and she opened her eyes slightly and saw a pair of blue eyes and a halo of blonde hair. She smiled lightly at Legolas before closing her eyes once again and falling into a dreamless slumber.

They woke and were back in the saddle before the sun was even above the horizon. The trees were just as gloomy and dreary as the day before, with only tiny shafts of sunlight piercing through the mossy canopy. With Gandalf in the lead and Zamira at the back they continued to make progress towards Isengard, which by midday loomed beyond the trees.

As they exited the forest they were surprised to see two small figures on the half destroyed wall enjoying a smoke and a various food and drinks. One stood up and Zamira's eyes widened as she finally saw that it was Merry and Pippin who were relaxing on the wall. They laughed out loud and raised their mugs of ale in greeting as Merry stood up and spread his arms to the side.

"Welcome, My Lords and lady, to Isengard!" He yelled out as they all reigned in their steeds and all but Gimli were amused at the Hobbit's display and antics.

"You young rascals! A merry hunt you've led us on and now we find you feasting and… and smoking!" The red bearded Dwarf protested from behind Legolas.

"We are sitting on a field of victory enjoying a few well-earned comforts. The salted pork is particularly good." Pippin said as he sat there with a joyous smile on his face.

"Salted pork?" Gimli asked with a confused tone but a hungered face.

"Hobbits." Gandalf sighed as he shook his head at the two and their playful teasing of the Dwarf.

"We're under orders from Treebeard, who's taken over management of Isengard." Merry said pointing to a place farther into the flooded compound of Isengard, where Zamira supposed this Treebeard was. Moving forward Aragorn and Éomer took one of the Hobbits astride their steeds, with Pippin riding on the dark grey dappled steed of the soldier of Rohan and Merry riding Hasufel behind the Ranger.

As they began to tromp through the water, Gamling's house began to spook in the liquid and Zamira after taking notice of the situation unblocked her true aura and powers.

"Path of Frost." She whispered and watched with a light smile as their horses were lifted off the water slightly and then under their hooves a thin but sturdy sheet of solid ice formed. All of the group members seemed to be in a state of shock, except for Gandalf who had witnessed the spell during the Fellowship's time in Rivendell.

"Thank you, Zamira." Gandalf said looking back at the Death Knight who nodded in recognition and as a way of saying you're welcome.

From there they continued on over the murky water that submerged the ground under two feet of liquid. As they rounded the wall Zamira set eyes on a large group of familiar-looking beings. She knew these had to be the Ents of Middle-Earth, but their forms were vaguely different than the bulky, bark-covered Ents she knew.

"Treebeard! We have guests!" Pippin yelled out and one of the Ents walking around in the water turned around and approached them as hastily as a tree-being that was used to being still and unmoving could.

"Young Master Gandalf. I'm glad you've come." The Ent said, as he came up to be in front of them. He stopped suddenly and looked down curiously at the sheet of ice on the water that had blocked his approach. He examined the bluish colored ice under their horses' hooves and then cast a glance down at Zamira with inquisitive yellow-amber colored eyes.

"This ice-magic is yours, young woman?" He asked in a slow and paced voice that echoed, croak and groaned like an aged tree in a strong wind.

"Indeed, Ent, it is mine." Zamira replied, meeting the amber stare with her own cold blue gaze.

"Interesting, interesting. I have never sensed nor felt magic such as this. You must not be from here, since I know about this entire world's magic." Treebeard said with continually curious look and Zamira nodded to which the Ent nodded back and then turned his attention back to the wizard garbed in white atop the white Maeras stallion.

"Wood and water, stock and stone I can master. But there is a wizard to manage here, locked in his tower." The Ent said as he turned and led them forward across the water nearer to the base of the looming, black, metallic tower. Its precipices and balconies spiked and hooked with every barb and claw giving an aura of destruction, fear and the overwhelming feeling of pure power.

"Show yourself." Aragorn whispered from Zamira's left side and she cast a quick glance at the Ranger before focusing her gaze back up the tower, looking for Saruman, the wizard ruler of this monstrosity.

"Be careful. Even in defeat, Saruman is dangerous." Gandalf warned but Zamira with a nudge of her booted heels came up beside the white wizard.

"Gandalf, there is a spell I could use to negate the effects of his own. An Anti-Magic Zone, a dome of energy that blocks and absorbs enemy spells. Though it only lasts for ten seconds." The Death Knight whispered to the wizard who looked at her with a raised eyebrow, though his blue eyes still held all seriousness.

"Very well, if he casts an offensive spell against us, you may use it. But attempt to hide yourself from Saruman. He may attempt to woo you into the path of evil and save himself by presenting you to Sauron." The wizard said gravely and the undead woman scoffed at the idea, but nonetheless reined her power but still kept her Path of Frost spell active. Lightly she shook her head while moving her steed away from Shadowfax who was becoming agitated in the presence of her Deathcharger.

"You say he is dangerous? Well, let's just have his head and be done with it." Gimli suggested from behind the blonde elf.

"No. We need him alive. We need him to talk." Gandalf said, essentially turning down the Dwarf's idea as the wizard scanned the tower for any sign of their target. Suddenly a light, but easily felt aura of magic fell upon the ground and they all looked up to the very top of the tower.

"You have fought many wars and slain many men, Théoden King, and made peace afterwards." A deep and somewhat alluring voice spoke, but the influence of the voice was clearly a magical amplification. Looking up the very top Zamira narrowed her eyes against the gloomy sunlight and took in the details of this Saruman, the dangerous wizard of Isengard.

"Can we not take counsel together as we once did, my old friend? Can we not have peace, you and I?" The somewhat stressed and bedraggled looking Saruman asked the King of Rohan who looked up at him with narrowed grayish blue eyes.

"We shall have peace." Théoden said and a few of the group shot him incredulous glances as if he were crazy and Zamira looked at the King searching his face and eyes for any trace of some hypnosis spell but found nothing but a King seething with boiling anger rising from within.

"We shall have peace… when you answer for the burning of the Westfold and the children that lie dead there! We shall have peace when the lives of the soldiers whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg are avenged! When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows, we shall have peace!" The angered King yelled back at the wizard whose features changed from a calm benevolence to a twisted mask of rage.

"Gibbets and crows! Dotard! And what do you want, Gandalf Greyhame? Let me guess. The Key of Orthanc? Or perhaps the Keys of Barad**-**dûr itself, along with the crowns of the Seven Kings and the rods of the Five Wizards!" Saruman demanded of the new, good white wizard who gazed up at him with stern eyes.

"Your treachery had already cost many lives. Thousands more are now at risk. But you could save them, Saruman. You were deep in the enemy's counsel." Gandalf yelled upwards towards Saruman, who raised an eyebrow at the white wizard's words.

"So you have come here for information. I have some for you." he said in return and from his robe withdrew what looked like a great black orb, lined with thin white veins and a dull orange glow at the center.

"Something festers in the heart of Middle-Earth. Something that you have failed to see. But the Great Eye has seen it." Saruman continued as he gazed into the heart of the orb, looking back down at Gandalf before back into the fiery glow of the orb before he looked away for the final time and tucked the orb back into his dirtied and stained robes.

"Even now he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon." The Wizard of Isengard said as he gloated for his demented master's supposed foretold victory. Gandalf frowned slightly and nudged Shadowfax forward a bit and Zamira had Oblivion also take a few inconspicuous steps forward in the white stallion's wake.

"You're all going to die. But you know this, don't you, Gandalf. The only one who could possibly survive this was is the mysterious death dealing woman I have heard about, but that is only if she submits to Him before the end has come. But I digress… You cannot think that this Ranger will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor. This exile, crept from the shadows, will never be crowned King." Saruman said as his gaze drifted from Gandalf to Aragorn who narrowed his eyes slightly at the wizard but remained silent.

"Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those closest to him, those he professes to love. Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the Halfling, before you sent him to his doom? The path that you have set him on can only lead to death." The evil wizard continued with a sinister smile on his bearded face as he leaned over the edge of his tower, relying on his black metal staff to keep him steady.

"I've heard enough. Shoot him. Stick an arrow in his gob." Gimli said from behind, trying to get the Mirkwood prince to shoot the wizard for the peace of silence. But just as the elf began to draw an arrow from his quiver the wizard at their head shot him a glance.

"No. Come down, Saruman, and your life will be spared." Gandalf said firstly directed at the agitated, red bearded Dwarf behind the blonde elf and the second portion towards the wizard whom he was attempting to coerce.

"Save your pity and your mercy! I have no use for it!" Saruman yelled in a rage as he picked up his staff and with a jab of the unadorned end sent a large fireball speeding down the height of the tower towards the white robed wizard. Zamira seeing that her time had come, though she did not doubt Gandalf's powers to stop the blazing fire coming his way, could not resist the chance to show this wizard who was truly in power here. With a kick of her legs, Oblivion lunged forward onto a new island of ice that formed under his hooves and took a protective stance before Shadowfax and his rider while the Death Knight cast a cold gaze at the orange fireball rushing towards her now.

"Anti-Magic Zone." She said in a slightly louder than normal tone of voice. Her double timbre echoing unnaturally off the metal of the tower and the pure power released by her froze all of the water in her vicinity. As the words left her lips her true power was released from its bonds and a large mostly transparent purple dome covered all of the area in a thirty foot area. The fire struck the wall and all they felt was a warm gust of air before the flames cleared and Zamira leered up at Saruman where he stood shocked at the top of his tower.

"You!" He screeched as she stared up at him and Oblivion too craned his long, muscular neck to meet the wizard's eyes with their glowing eye sockets.

"Yesss, me. I heard you've been looking for me, Saruman?" The Death Knight hissed out with a malicious smirk, showing her snow white teeth from behind the cover of her grey colored lips. The Anti-Magic Zone then faded away and her view of him was once again unobstructed.

"Of course! My Master, the great and terrible, Dark Lord Sauron, has been searching, craving for your powers to come under his grasp. I propose you leave these fools and join the side of who is going to win this war of destruction." Saruman all but begged to Zamira who narrowed her eyes.

"I shall have to decline that proposition. You see… I am not a slave for the side of evil anymore; you're about three years too late." The undead woman said simply as she took up Oblivion's reigns in her hands more firmly and guided her Deathcharger into a backwards walk and gave Gandalf the metaphorical 'stage' back.

"Saruman, Zamira shall not be swayed to the side of evil." Gandalf said and the bedraggled wizard was once again flustered with anger as the wind from his high place ruffled his long, straight hair into disarray.

"Saruman, your staff is broken." Gandalf said as his power seemed to radiate from his aura, though Zamira was definitely the only one who could sense the wizard's power, and it zoomed upwards towards Saruman's staff which then shattered into pieces. Without the stave at his side, Saruman immediately seemed to take on a much weaker stance and attitude. From behind him, crept up the slimy, dark haired man from Zamira's first time in Rohan. The one called Gríma Wormtongue.

"Gríma, you need not follow him. You were not always as you are now. You were once a Man of Rohan. Come down." Théoden called to the slimy man, who seemed to be even unhealthier looking than the last time the Death Knight had set eyes on him.

"A Man of Rohan? What is the house of Rohan, but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek and their brats roll on the floors with the dogs? The victory at Helms Deep does not belong to you, Théoden Horse-Master. You are a lesser son of greater sires." Saruman protested angrily, scorning upon the King sitting at the base of his tower with a sneer.

"Gríma, come down. Be free of him." Théoden said, keeping his head calm and cool under the ridicule of the angered wizard.

"Free? He will never be free!" Saruman yelled.

"No." Gríma said quietly but Saruman had heard and Zamira saw him turn on the small, dark haired man.

"Get down, cur!" The wizard yelled in a rage and backhanded the man sending him toppling out of sight onto the flat roof of the tower.

"Saruman! You were deep in the enemy's counsel. Tell us what you know!" Gandalf demanded as the enraged master of Isengard turned back towards them.

"You withdraw your guard, and I will tell you where your doom will be decided. I will not be held prisoner here." Saruman said, but as the words left his mouth Gríma suddenly appeared from behind him with a small dagger clutched in his hand. He grabbed at the wizard and began to repeatedly stab him in the center of the back.

Legolas from the side took action quickly as he drew both his bow and an arrow and let the arrow fly up with precise aim into Gríma's heart. The dark haired man let out a shriek of pain as he fell backwards back onto the roof of the tower, but Saruman's momentum was carrying him forward as he spun around slightly and then tumbled off the edge of the tower with the dagger still firmly embedded in his back.

His body twirled, flipped and spun in the air, with the whitish-cream colored robes spreading in the rushing wind. Within seconds it was rapidly approaching the ground, or rather a spiked, metallic wheel. With an open mouth and wide eyes Zamira watched the body as if in slow motion as one of the spikes impaled the falling body directly through the wizard's chest cavity.

"Send word to all our allies and to every corner of Middle-Earth that still stand free. The enemy moves against us. We need to know where he will strike." Gandalf said but Zamira listened with distant ears as she and Oblivion moved towards the impaled body of Saruman and sniffed the air like hungry wolves on the sight of a fresh kill. The stench of a fresh corpse, of blood naturally infused with the powerful energy of magic was too hard to resist. Oblivion's blackened tongue hung from his open mouth, his breath fogging in the warm air as his rider's did as she opened her mouth and licked her lips slowly as she saw the red stains seeping through the cream colored robes.

Suddenly, Zamira blinked and shook her head against the mindless hunger of the undead that was ravaging her instincts. She reigned back on Oblivion who let out a shrill whinny of protest and the focus of their group's attention turned to them as the two undead creatures wrestled with their hunger. The Death Knight closed her eyes tightly and held onto the black leather reigns of her Acherus Deathcharger as she continued to hold him back from feasting on the fresh corpse as he would have liked to.

With a suddenly movement she walked him forward and laid a hand against the metal wheel and with a slight exertion of force against the wheel sent it with a groan into motion. It moved and soon the body of Saruman became submerged under the murky brown water. But as the body sank into the water, the orb from before dropped out of one of the robe's hidden pockets and fell into the water as well.

"The filth of Saruman is washing away. Trees will come back to the live here. Young trees. Wild trees." Treebeard said from the side as he gazed out at his fellows that were steadily working on clearing away the contraptions of the deceased wizard.

"Pippin!" Aragorn called as the Hobbit dropped down from Hasufel and began tromping through the water, since the ice of the Path of Frost would not form under his feet. All turned to watch what the Hobbit was doing with curious eyes and Zamira after clearing most of her hunger away turned Oblivion away from the wheel and watched the Hobbit as he headed in her direction but stopped just a few feet short. He bent down and pulled something from the water and Gandalf trotted over to see what it was. Zamira's eyes widened as she realized what it was. It was the orange glowing orb that Saruman had held up just minutes ago.

"Bless my bark!" Treebeard exclaimed in shock.

"Peregrin Took! I'll take that, my lad. Quickly, now." Gandalf said as he gestured for the orb and Pippin gave it to him which he then wrapped up in his robes. Zamira then caught the look that Pippin gave the white robed wizard afterwards and she narrowed her eyes in confusion before leaning down from her saddle and grabbing the Hobbit by the sodden scruff of his elven cloak.

"You can ride with me." She said simply as she put in the young Halfling behind her and then moved to follow the already moving rest of the group.

They set a brisk pace heading back towards Edoras, galloping for the most of the time, only giving the horses breaks when they seemed to direly need them, except for Shadowfax and Oblivion who with their gifts of magic and or being undead did not tire nearly as quickly as the living, normal horses did. They rode throughout the night while the adults stayed awake, or most of them, as the Hobbits plus Gimli had fallen asleep trusting their riders to make sure they remained on the steeds.

By midday the following day when the sun was near its zenith they spotted Edoras and the Golden Hall from the ride of the hills they galloped over and as they all rode through the main gates they were greeted with cheers, swooning single women for the men of the group and an overly anxious Éowyn who was nearly jumping out of her shoes.

As the living horses were taken away to the stables and Zamira had dismissed Oblivion, Théoden led them into the main room of the Golden Hall and sat down upon his throne. He let out a deep sigh as if he was letting all his stresses out in one great breath.

"Tonight we shall feast in honor of our victory and in memory of those who have died in this past battle. You have the remainder of the day to clean up, relax or do whatever you wish." He said to the group and they immediate separated and went their own ways. Except for Legolas and Zamira who wandered off into the darker hallways of the Golden Hall hoping to waste away some time with one another, as they had not been able to in the previous few days.

"What happened back at Isengard, after the death of Saruman? You and your horse seemed so uncontrolled." The blonde elf asked with a worried, but serious expression.

"There is a hunger that all creatures of the undead world feel. It is the hunger for life, the appetite for flesh, blood and the souls of the living. Saruman's freshly killed body was proving to be…a tempting treat." The undead woman admitted as she hung her head lowly waiting for the reaction of disgust.

"So you were going to… eat him?" The elf asked and Zamira nodded her head slowly in shame. She knew that the relationship between the living and the mostly, or re-animated dead was a foolish endeavor. Though some she knew, mainly her possibly two closest companions, up until she came here, were proof that it could be done.

But instead of disgust she heard musical chuckles. She looked up sharply and found the blonde elf leaning on the other wall holding a pale hand to his mouth trying to muffle the waves of laughter that seemed ready to burst from his lips.

"You are laughing… Why?" The utterly confused Death Knight inquired as she stepped towards the laughing elf. It took the Mirkwood prince a few moments to stifle his guffaws to a more diminutive state but when he did his face was pinkish from the exertion and his eyes alight with humor.

"Because that is one of the oddest things I've ever heard in my near three thousand years." He said simply and Zamira raised a thin, black eyebrow at the elf before shaking her head and letting out a sigh.

"Your sense of humor confuses me greatly." She said and then noticed that Legolas was composing himself and his pointed ears seemed to be twitching. He caught sight of her looks of curiosity and looked towards their right where from around a corner a panicked looking Éowyn emerged in a rush of white and dark green linen.

"Zamira! Finally I've found you." She said loudly as she rushed towards the Death Knight who seemed startled by the sudden appearance of the young, golden haired woman.

"Yes, what do you need me for?" The undead woman inquired.

"I was just thinking that you probably haven't bathed since before the battle. So I came to find you and say that I've prepared you a bath in my chambers, if you would like." Éowyn said with a cheerful smile and Zamira was struck by the helpfulness of this young woman.

"Thank you. I would greatly appreciate that. Legolas I will see you later on this evening." She said in a rather off-handed manner but gave the blonde elf and farewell wave and a nod of the head before she followed the briskly moving blonde woman of Rohan.

After being left in the spacious and richly decorated chambers of Éowyn Zamira looked for what cleaning products she had been given and found nothing but a simple bar of harsh lye soap which she did not feel like using that night. Quickly searching through her bags she found the herbal soaps that she had nicked from Lorien and placed them on the floor besides the large wooden washing basin that was still filled with steaming hot water. The undead woman also brought out the last set of clean and nice clothing she owned which was a washing and repaired pair of black breeches, a pale gray undershirt, a dusky gray-ish blue tunic and a sparsely embroidered black leather vest with corded ties and simple swirling lines of silver trailing along the edges.

After discarding her cloak, baldric with sheathed Runeblade and boots onto the ground she striped away the stained, ratty and torn clothes she had been wearing for four days straight and tossed them into a pile to be possibly mended by a seamstress somewhere in Rohan.

The Death Knight stepped into the near scalding water and hissed at the mild pain the hot water brought to her icy cold skin but slowly sank into the water and began to use the nearby rough cloth to spread the soaps from Lorien over her skin that until then had seemed almost like it had an actual color to it. But after ten minutes of vigorous scrubbing at the patches of dried blood, dirt and other things that clung to her flesh her deathly pale skin was clean and shone in the dim firelight like the whitest of bleached linens.

Next she made her way to her hair, which she now came to realize was trailing at her waist and much longer than she had ever had it before. She used the soap on her thick, ink black locks and within twenty minutes of even more vigorous work with her hair she finally was satisfied with the lack of disgusting things in her hair.

Finishing with her bath, Zamira rose from the water and tugged the larger expanse of rough cloth towards her that she wrapped around her nude body and quickly dried herself before clothing herself and wrapping her hair in the cloth and attempting to partially dry it with the motion. It seemed as if summoned by some force there was a knock on the door and the female Death Knight opened it to see the sparkling blue eyes of Éowyn who looked surprised to see her still in the clothes of a man.

"Oh, I thought you would have had a dress to wear. But I guess that will have to do. Do you need anything else?" She asked and Zamira nodded before allowing the young woman into the room.

"What so you need?" She asked.

"I want you to cut my hair." Zamira said bluntly and Éowyn gave her an incredulous look.

"Why would you want to cut your hair? It's so beautiful all long and smooth like that." She said in response and the undead woman gave herself a close examination in the silver backed mirror that hung from the wall.

"Very well, if you say so. But after the celebration this evening will you cut it for me? It is a bad thing to fight in battles with long hair." Zamira said, partially agreeing to Éowyn's wishes. But did not protest when the young woman sat her down and began to brush out her hair and then tied it back into a single braid.

"I will cut your hair this evening, but only after the celebration, which should actually be starting very shortly. So I best get ready. You should head to the dining hall that is where everyone will gather." The golden haired woman said simply as she shooed the Death Knight from her chambers, who then walked through the hallways trying to find her way to the dining hall.

After a few minutes of aimless wandering she heard the steady roar of talking voices and had finally found the dining hall. She silently walked in and went to stand between Gandalf and Legolas who had been talking to one another.

About half an hour after that the true celebration began as Éowyn entered followed by Éomer and King Théoden, all three of them dressed richly and lavishly showing their true ranks amongst the people of Rohan. Éomer took his place at the left of the King, while Éowyn was given a golden goblet filled with light ceremonial mead in it.

All around goblets were handed out as the people prepared for a toast, which would be said by the King. Éowyn knelt at her Uncle's feet and handed the gold goblet to him who accepted it and held it up with one hand while he spoke. All stood in respect as he raised the goblet high.

"Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country. Hail the victorious dead." King Théoden said simply and gravely, he was then chorused after with a shout of "Hail!" from the standing crowd who then took a drink from their mugs, goblets or cups.

From there the eating and drinking began as a hired band of musicians began to play and the men sat to gorge themselves on the roasted meats and freshly cooked breads. Zamira stayed near the outskirts of the party, the lively attitude of everything was making her sense go crazy and making her feel uneasy, but in all honesty it made her feel that uncomfortable sting of homesickness.

From her vantage point she saw that Éomer was handing mugs to Legolas and Gimli who was standing around a table. She moved in closer to watch what nonsense the elf and dwarf had gotten into now.

"No pauses. No spills." He said as he handed out the mugs and then went to lean on a large wooden keg of ale.

"And no regurgitation." Gimli added in with a hearty laugh and Zamira automatically knew what was happening. It was a drinking competition.

"So it's a drinking game?" Legolas inquired with light curiosity and obliviousness to what sort of hole he was digging himself.

"Last one standing wins." Gimli said simply with a grin before he began to chug down the mug in his stubby hands. Zamira watched on with a light smile as the two rivals, yet quickly becoming friends downed their ale and while Gimli's disposition seemed to change with every mug Legolas remained surprisingly unaffected.

"It's the Dwarves that go swimming with little, hairy women!" Gimli cried out at one point and Zamira all but choked on her own mug of ale as she was caught by surprise by the red bearded Dwarf's extremely lewd but drunken comments.

"I feel something. I slight tingle in my fingers." Legolas then said, paying no attention to the completely wasted Dwarf on his left. But he seemed genuinely worried about his condition. Zamira with a small grin on her pale face maneuvered her way through the crowd to stand between the Dwarf and the blonde elf and watched with glowing eyes as he turned towards her with an inquisitive and worried look.

"I think it's affecting me." He said gravely with wide eyes and Zamira shook her head.

"It's just the beginnings of a slight alcohol buzz… You're not going to die." She said but then shrieked when a hand shaped force hit her in the rear. She spun and saw a drunken Gimli leering up at her with a smirk.

"Hey there, pretty lassie." He gurgled out before his eyes rolled up in their sockets and the red bearded Dwarf's chair fell over and he collapsed onto the ground.

"Game over." The elf stated proudly with smirk before turning to the Death Knight besides him.

"Zamira, should I punish the Dwarf for his offenses against you?" he inquired with a grin, eyeing the form of the Dwarf with glee at whatever embarrassing tricks he could do.

"No. He is drunk, and now will have a horrible hangover in the morning, that is punishment enough. Come… will you join me outside. I no longer wish to be in such a crowded atmosphere." She said as she turned away from the elf who latched onto one of her hands and together they strolled out of the dining hall and out onto the stone patios of the Golden Hall.

The cool night breeze swept back both of their hair and Legolas looked at her curiously.

"Something is bothering you, isn't it? What is it?" The elf asked. Zamira fiddled around in her satchel for a moment and withdrew the shining magic pearl given to her by Lady Galadriel.

"I guess I am homesick. You know? When someone misses where they come from." She said bluntly as she gazed at the pearl, wondering to herself if the glimmering sphere in held by her fingers would really return her to Azeroth when this war was finished.

"Why don't you talk about something from there? I know that I miss my home in Mirkwood and my father so I sometimes just think about them and it eases the pain." The blonde elf suggested as they sat on the edge of the stones and dangled their feet over the edge.

"I miss the people and the land itself. The familiar territory. I know nothing of this world. I stumble about like a baby, not knowing where I'm going at all. I miss my… I guess one could say friends, but I've never grasped the concept of such companionship." She replied.

"Talk about some of them. Tell me about your hometown or city, and your two closest 'companions'." He softly demanded of her, trying to lessen the pain he knew she must feel for being so far away from her native home.

"From what my sister told me, I was originally born in Lordaeron, the shining capital of the Human lands but then we moved to Stormwind, another capital city that was quickly blossoming into a very prosperous area. Stormwind is a beautiful city with tall walls of white, roofs of blue dyed planks, there is an expansive harbor and the Citadel of Light in the center of the city. Then there is the Keep which is more off to the side where the ruling family lives. Currently the Humans are led by Varian Wrynn, who though hardheaded and stubborn at times is a very good King. He lost his wife Tiffin when their son, Anduin was just a baby. She was hit in the head with a thrown rock during the Defias uprisings." Zamira said as she rambled on and on about the city of her childhood, her Paladin training and the home of the Human race since Lordaeron was destroyed by the Scourge and then taken over by the Forsaken. Though most of her limited knowledge of her history was from the short and heated first meeting of her and her younger sister, Merian, a Priestess of the Light, who hated her guts for being a Death Knight.

"What of your two most favored companions?" Legolas inquired, making sure that the undead woman next to him had not forgotten.

"Ahh yes… those two. The first is my somewhat adopted child of sorts. I rescued her as young adolescent just stepping into the world and she never really considered our life debt complete. Her name was Nefti Airslicer, an orphaned Gnome girl who was a novice in the Mage arts. At first, as you could imagine, I was averse to keeping her around, and I was even annoyed when she began calling me her 'mother'. As if I could ever be a mother-like figure for anyone?" She continued as the flashing images of the blue haired, green eyed Gnome zooming around on her short legs and practicing shooting her frost and arcane spells at the target dummies outside of Darnassus.

"And the other?" The Prince of Mirkwood asked and the death Knight looked over to her left and met the blue eyes of the elf next to her.

"She's the closest thing I have to a friend, if I were to have one. At first we got off on shaky ground, even after I found out that her husband was a comrade of mine when I served the Lich King. But it was her relationship with him that fuels the minor hopes I have for our… love. The proof that the living and the undead can love one another and make it work for a happier ending." Zamira said softly, hoping to the Gods that no one else had heard her emotional and soft hearted statement.

"What is her name… and the name of her husband? When, not if, when we return to your world to solve your debt with this Lich King person I want to thank them, for giving you such a hope." He asked softly, scooting closer to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder drawing her closer to his body in a pseudo-embrace.

"Her name is Blackrose Drathras, but most just call her Rose and his name is Commander Xaphras Drathras." Zamira said as she hesitantly leaned on the elf and looked up at the darkening night sky and picked out as many stars she could spot.

They sat there for another couple of minutes before they were beckoned back into the celebration which lasted for only another hour or so until the dining hall was cleared, the food scraps thrown to the chickens and dogs and the kegs either put away if they still had some ale or broken apart for firewood if they had been emptied.

As the men without rooms prepared to bunk in a large room off of the main hall two large chaise couches were dragged into the main hall area on either side of the crackling fire for both Éowyn, who had given up her room to the more needy, and Zamira who as a female was not 'allowed' to sleep in a room full of men. Legolas stuck around for a few minutes, as Éowyn, in her powder blue nightgown set about cutting off most of Zamira's black hair until the edges just brushed against her shoulders.

After the deed was done the undead woman sent Legolas off, who instead of returning to the room where the men were sleeping went out into the night air for some odd reason. Not half an hour passed and while Éowyn had already fallen asleep Zamira lay on the chaise couch that was her bed for the evening and flipped mindlessly through Draconic for Dummies Volume I for entertainment value. The door to the men's bedroom opened and Aragorn stepped through, still fully dressed and with a long-stemmed pipe in his hands. He looked up and met her glowing eyes for a few moments and then glanced to the slumbering young woman.

"Why are you not asleep like her?" He whispered to her as he squatted by the fire and tried to ignite a minor flame so as to light his pipe.

"I am not tired." The Death Knight whispered back but then looked at Éowyn, whose eyes were slightly opened and her breathing had slightly picked up into a state of waking.

"What time is it?" She asked, still half asleep.

"Not yet dawn." Aragorn replied as he approached her bedside and pulled the blue woolen blankets over her more but as he backed away her hand flew out and grasped his own tightly. Zamira pointedly looked away at that moment and went back to reading the language of the dragons, which was difficult to learn for most everyone, even the most skilled of Magi.

"I dreamed I saw a great wave, climbing over green lands and above the hills. I stood upon the brink. It was utterly dark in the abyss before my feet. A light shone behind me, but I could not turn. I could only stand there, waiting." She told him in a semi-frightened tone as a stray tear escaped her eyes.

"Night changed many thoughts. Sleep, Éowyn. Sleep… while you can." The Ranger, but the heir to be King of Gondor, whispered to the troubled young woman who cuddled his hand to her but then fell back into a slumber. He rose from his kneeling position by her bedside and then with a nod to Zamira strode out the door, to what the undead woman most likely guessed was to speak to his Elven friend.

The minutes passed in silence and Zamira kept reading her book, not really retaining any of the knowledge but just for the sake of something to do. Suddenly she felt a disturbance in the overall calm aura of the night. She rose as quietly as she could and began walking in the direction of the disturbance and came to the closed door of the men's bedroom. She stood there with a puzzled expression until she heard a shrill cry and with a shove of her shoulder pushed the door off its hinges and leapt into the room.

Shrieking like a madman in the center of the room was Pippin, writhing in the air in a standing position with a flaming orb in his grasp. Zamira realized that this was the orb that they had gotten from Saruman and the disturbance must be somehow Sauron.

She slammed into Pippin and with her superior strength and size wrestled the orb from his grasp and then before the orb could invade her mind froze her body solid in a massive, jagged block of ice. The burning of the orb did nothing to melt the ice as she felt the darkness closing in and a looming fiery presence closing in on her mind and soul.

"You! You are the woman I seek! Join me and we shall rule this world!" A thunderous and booming voice echoed in her mind as her eyes clamped shut against the sheer power the presence was exerting on her mind.

"You shall not have your way, Sauron!" She yelled back, unleashing her subconscious powers and began to force the presence of Sauron backwards. Suddenly a blinding flash of orange, fiery light appeared and in the background was a massive eye wreathed in flames with a narrowed, cat-like pupil but before it a man-shaped figure cloaked in shadows.

"I think I shall, woman. You are my second key to success. The Ring is the first. But I want… No! I need your power!" A deep, baritone voice rung through the created realm and Zamira faintly felt a chilled breeze on her back and with a quick glance noticed a world of ice and snow set behind her.

"You shall not woo me to your ways. My former Master did not keep me in his servitude and you shall not enslave me to your own. I am impervious to your magic words." Zamira said narrowing her eyes at the dark figure of Sauron, still indistinct in the darkness but rippling in outline with every breath of air.

"Fine then! I do not need your powers or your strength. But you will not die. I will get The Ring, I will capture you and I will make you my slave by force! Maybe I'll even sire an heir to my throne of destruction from your mutilated body!" Sauron's shadow roared and the fires raged around her and the darkness swallowed her once again.

Her eyes opened blurrily and she saw crowds of people swarming outside a block of blue tinged ice. She noticed a blonde halo of hair and a glow of white that she vaguely knew to be Gandalf. She melted the ice without a second thought but as the orb left her hands for the wrappings of Gandalf's robe she felt her massive wells of strength leave her and felt the air rush by her face. She toppled forward only to be caught by a pair of thin by muscular arms and looking into a pair of worried sky blue eyes before the true darkness of unconsciousness took her for the first time in many days.

**Well there is your Chapter 18 of Eternal Undeath, hope you all enjoyed it and Chapter 19 will be out as soon as I can get a spare couple of hours to work on it. **


	19. Letter to Readers VERY IMPORTANT!

Dear All of You whom have messaged me about the continuation of Eternal Undeath,

It really does warm my heart to find that still people have been reading this fanfiction, despite my prolonged absence. I will give you some reassurances however, to ease your troubled minds. To explain my extended absence in detail, because I think you all deserve a straightforward answer to your questions.

Sometime after the posting of Chapter 18, approximately a week and a half or so, I was sitting in the computer lab of the high school, which I previously attended and have recently, as in this past June, graduated from. There I sat, working not on what I should have been but the planning of Chapter 19, and other random fanfiction ideas that were popping into my head. Unfortunately on that day I forgot to take my USB Flash Drive out of the port and had left it there for the remainder of that day and the following evening.

When I went back to look for it extensively I found it missing, and after checking with the librarians that were there, and even the janitorial staff, I had no such luck in finding it. This led me to believe that some ignorant asshole went and stole it!

And so I lost any and all progress I had made on Eternal Undeath Chapter 19, Repeating Fate, and Baring Fangs for Destiny. From there I had to restart from scratch. Trying to seek out any of my original documents on the hard drive of my laptop and eventually having to copy and paste the writing from my own account to get back the documents.

From there I struggled and suffered to try and re-map the plot ideas I had created for Chapter 19 and I failed utterly and miserably. And then senior year of high school started and I was swamped with college this, SAT that, admissions this, and school work that. I had little to no free time and found that I couldn't even focus on fanfiction at all, so I gave up and hoped that once the flood of busy was done I would have time.

But alas, the busy times did not end nearly as soon as I had hoped; literally it didn't end until I was actually graduated on June 1st. Soon I also had a job to balance with my athletic activities, school work, and college preparations. And even after June 1st I found myself swamped with college bullshit and my parents nagging and nagging about doing this and doing that.

But now onto the more positive news, I have been re-reading through the previous 18 chapters trying to stimulate my Lord of the Rings lore hound-ness, and though I have recently all but given up on playing World of Warcraft I do still know enough to continue the story to its completion. I have also been watching tid-bits of the movies when I can, but I still have to balance it between work, college preparation, and spending time with my friends, whom I wish to remain close with despite our spreading locations for further education.

So basically bad news, it is gunna be slow progress towards Chapter 19. But good news is that progress is being made, slowly but surely. No doubt to the once in a grand while PM, review, favorite, etc. that I receive from you readers gets me thinking again about what I need to do to FINALLY get Chapter 19 rolling off my fingers and onto a Microsoft Word Document.

I appreciate your support, and if any of you want to step up to plate and offer your support in a more direct manner. As in any plot ideas YOU have, any suggestions of where you want this story to go. Things like that, and even the short message of support and encouragement, you can shoot me an email at:

Shadowmane2

At least with email it'll pop up in my face a bit more… effectively.

Sincerely,

NightIncarnate

P.S. Do not reply to this in a Review… PM me, or Email me only, please and thank you.


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